


Signs of Life

by cvsossong



Series: Signs of Life [1]
Category: Iron Man - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: (rated mature for later sex scenes), (trust me it's gonna be real cute), Deaf Character, Domestic Avengers, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Family Feels, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Kid Fic, Kid Peter Parker, M/M, Parent Tony Stark, Superfamily, Superhusbands, Tiny amount of Spideypool at the end, Tony Stark Has A Heart
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-28
Updated: 2015-01-16
Packaged: 2018-02-19 02:39:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 40,427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2371448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cvsossong/pseuds/cvsossong
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony Stark gets thrown into a new world when a one- night stand ends with him having a son. When it's discovered that Peter is deaf due to his mother's mistakes while pregnant, Tony vows to become the father he never had. Fortunately, he's got the Avengers to step up as a team— and a family.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Silent Language

**Author's Note:**

> find me on [tumblr](http://halfway-punk-rock.tumblr.com/)

It started three months after his son was born.

Tony had been terrified of being a father, at first. It had been a one- night stand with a drunken blonde woman whose name he could barely remember, and she had turned around and used the condom to impregnate herself (which, _eww_ ) to try and get money from Tony. The case had fallen through, especially when she was arrested for illegal drug use and driving under the influence. She’d had the baby, and now she was serving five years in prison.

Tony had shown up at the hospital after the kid was born to sign the birth certificate and talk to the girl’s lawyer about giving the baby up for adoption. The doctor had asked at one point if he wanted to see the baby, and Tony had hesitantly agreed.

The boy was… perfect. He already had a mess of thick, curling hair on his head, and he was small and wrinkled and pink and _so perfect._

“I want one,” he murmured when Pepper stepped around him to peer into the crib.

Pepper smiled. “You’ve got one. Tell the lawyer to kindly piss off and take your son home.”

So he did.

The baby laughed up at him the whole ride home. Tony wiggled a finger in front of his face and smiled when the baby reached up and batted at his hand.

“Have you thought of a name yet, sir?” Happy asked.

Tony shrugged. “I’ve always liked the name Peter.”

At first, Peter was perfectly healthy. He laughed, he cried, he slept in ridiculous quantities and ate anything he could get his hands on. Tony found it odd sometimes that he wouldn’t react if someone dropped something nearby or made a loud, sudden noise, but the doctors told him it was possible he was just a very calm baby.

However, by the time he was three months old he wasn’t making the noises he was supposed to. Tony had read every parental book known to mankind, every book on child development and stages of speech and learning. He decided that if he was going to do this, he was going to go all in. But Peter wasn’t doing what he was supposed to, wasn’t making the sounds he was supposed to make.

Tony took him to a doctor and waited while they performed test after test, for three hours straight. Peter never fussed, except for when they had to take him away from Tony every so often. When he was with Tony, he just played with a little toy bear Tony had gotten him, giggling loudly.

The doctor had come in, taken off his glasses, and smiled in Peter’s direction while he gave Tony the news.

“We think Peter has a hearing impairment.”

It was impossible to know so soon how bad it was, but the doctors guessed that at least 70% of his hearing was gone, and that he had been born that way. One doctor said it was because his mother had been taking drugs while she was still pregnant. Another suggested that she might have a family history of deafness. No one really knew for sure what had caused it, but the fact remained that Peter was almost totally deaf.

It changed everything for Tony. He locked himself away in the workshop for three days, asking Pepper to watch Peter while he worked. When he emerged, he’d invented a program that JARVIS could run that would teach him sign language, and developed a prototype hearing aid to magnify any sounds Peter couldn’t hear. Tony learned sign language within a week and started teaching Peter immediately, using it whenever he could. Peter watched with fascination, apparently delighted that his father was waving his hands so much more than before.

Tony was afraid it wasn’t working, was afraid that Peter wasn’t getting it, until Peter was four and a half months old. He was sitting up by then, so Tony put him on the rug and knelt until Peter could see his hands.

“Hungry?” he asked, making the sign along with it. Peter stared up at him, and Tony tried again.

Peter giggled and made the sign back to Tony, then put his fingers together in front of his mouth. The sign for _‘eat’._ Tony considered it his first words.

After that, Peter caught on to sign language almost immediately. He learned _‘yes’_ and _‘no’,_ and _‘food’_ and _‘hello’._ He would point to objects in the room and wait until Tony signed them, then would imitate the sign with clumsy fingers.

Once he opened his palm and tapped his thumb to his forehead, making a clumsy _‘daddy’,_ and Tony almost cried.

Peter was deaf, but he was also incredibly smart. He picked up the signs almost immediately, and learned how to react to sounds even if he couldn’t hear them. When Tony dropped a cup in his line of vision, Peter would step back and giggle once it clattered to the floor. He would stare at the TV, even if he had no idea what was going on, and would laugh or cry based on what show Tony put on. Tony started putting on subtitles, and by the time Peter was 18 months old he could already read at a pre- k level. He would mouth along with the words on the screen, acting out for himself what was happening.

For a while, Peter wore his hearing aids without complaint. Tony made dozens of new models, determined to create the perfect hearing aid for his son. Peter’s favorite color was red, so Tony tried to stay within that color scheme.

It was working fine, until Peter was almost two and the media caught on to Peter’s disability.

**_“In other news, StarkIndustries heir Peter Stark was seen wearing hearing aids today, leaving some critics with the question: will he be able to lead the company if he is severely handicapped?”_ **

**_“Tony Stark’s son, Peter, was photographed last week with hearing aids in. Now, I'm not saying that he won’t be a competent leader, but is he really what the company needs…”_ **

**BREAKING NEWS: STARKINDUSTRIES HEIR DISABLED, INVESTORS WORRY ABOUT FUTURE OF COMPANY**

Tony tried to keep Peter away from the chaos, but somewhere along the way the boy must have seen a news report or magazine, and though he wasn’t old enough to understand the entire gist of what was happening, he knew that people were talking about his hearing aids and drawing attention to them. After that, he refused to wear them. Ever.

 _'Come on, baby, just for a few hours,'_ Tony coaxed one day. He was signing, now, since Peter was refusing the aids. Peter was sitting in bed, arms crossed over his chest—his version of the ‘silent treatment’. _'No one will see them but me, I promise.'_

Peter shook his head vehemently. With one hand, he pushed the hearing aids away. The other remained tucked firmly under his arm.

 _'Please, Peter,_ _for me. You can do it. Just for a little while.'_

Peter shook his head again and buried himself in his covers, eliminating his line of sight and effectively ending the conversation. Tony sighed and stood up. He’d try again another day.

Another day turned into another week, then a month, and then it had been six months and Peter still hadn’t put them in. Tony tried almost every day. He used every method he could think of—bribery, threatening, pleading, bribery again—but Peter was adamant against ever wearing them again.

So Tony resumed teaching him sign language, until he had it almost perfect. He taught Peter how to read lips, as well, so he could know what other people were saying without signing it for him constantly. Together, they developed a way so Tony could get Peter's attention to sign to him. Tony would tap the back of Peter's head twice, and Peter would know Tony wanted to talk to him. They developed other gestures like that as a code of their own— tapping the knee meant Peter needed to speak up, tapping the arm meant he needed to speak softer, and so on. He kept the subtitles on so Peter could continue learning to read, and kept trying every day for the hearing aids.

Tony took them to New York when Peter was two years and three months old, intending to build a Tower as the new headquarters for StarkIndustries. He figured it would give Peter a change of scenery, somewhere else to go besides just staying in California for the rest of his life. Besides, the company was growing, and Tony's side business as Iron Man was better then ever, and everyone knew that the real action was on the East Coast anyways. Plus, Hammer wasn't in New York, and that made Tony feel a hundred times safer.

When Fury called him in during Manhattan, Tony was forced to leave Peter with an old friend in New York until he could come back. Ben Parker used to work for Tony’s father, a long time ago, and he and his wife May had stayed in touch even after Howard died. They knew basic sign language, and agreed to take care of Peter while Tony was off fighting Loki.

 _'You’ll be good for May and Ben, right baby?'_ Tony signed. ' _Use your words when you can, and don't make trouble. I'll be back as soon as I can.'_ Peter nodded and opened his arms so Tony could pick him up and kiss his cheek repeatedly. With his index, pinky, and thumb raised up, the boy pressed the sign for ‘I love you’ against Tony’s arc reactor—something he did out of habit whenever he was nervous or had to calm down. Tony found it almost as relaxing as Peter did.

And then Tony was off, onto the Helicarrier—and they fished Captain America out of the ice, who knew?—and into the world of magic and realms and assholes with glowing sticks. Fury kept bringing up his superhero boy band idea, the ‘Avengers’ or some bullshit name like that, but Tony had been rejected from the Initiative for his ‘narcissism’ and ‘self- destructive tendencies’.

In all honesty, he hadn’t had tendencies like that since Peter was born, but SHIELD didn’t know that his son still lived with him so he let it slide. Besides, he didn’t get along with anyone from the team well enough to even consider joining. Except for Bruce, of course, but science bonded them and it was a weak bond at best.

Until Coulson was dead and suddenly they had something to avenge, and then it was _on_. The group flowed together, blended well, and _became_ a team, and that was good enough for Tony.

Sure, there was that little mishap with the nuclear bomb, and Tony entering the portal and Captain America telling him it was a goddamned “one- way trip”. That last part stung a bit, thinking that he might never see Peter again and he’d grow up thinking Tony had abandoned him, but JARVIS pulled up a picture of him and Peter just before he closed his eyes and that made almost dying worthwhile.

He didn’t mention Peter to the team while they ate afterwards. He figured, with him being in the news so much, they’d all have picked up on it by now, and he didn't see Peter being deaf as something he had to explain to them. It was just what he was, and that was it in Tony's mind.

“So, it’s great that we’ve had our fun little bonding session, but I've gotta pop over to Queens for a sec,” Tony said as they left the shawarma joint. “Anyone wanna cover for me with Fury?”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Clint asked. “If you’re getting out of debriefing, I'm out of debriefing. I don’t care if you’re going to get a hooker in Queens, I'm coming with.” Tony was pretty sure Clint was avoiding the certain punishment waiting for him back at SHIELD— even though it wasn't his fault he was brainwashed, SHIELD was sure as hell going to make him feel like it was. He didn't blame Barton for wanting to stay away.

“Definitely not getting a hooker with you, Barton, but you can tag along.” Tony turned to the rest of the group— _team_ , sorry, rest of the team—and opened his arms invitingly. “Anyone else want to take a field trip?”

“I’m not in the mood to listen to Fury,” Bruce said. “I say we drop off Thor and Loki and avoid SHIELD for as long as physically possible.”

Natasha shrugged. “As long as I don’t have to drive.”

Tony glanced at Steve next, wincing in preparation for the ‘we have to follow the rules’ speech that was sure to come. Steve just grinned. “I’m all for skipping meetings,” he replied.

Huh. Captain America was a rebel. Who knew.

\--------------------

Steve came out of the ice and they immediately threw him into another team and another life or death situation. Only this time, the team wasn’t a team, it was a ragtag group of individual heroes who ‘worked alone’ and didn’t want to relinquish control in their own different way. It made leading them near impossible, but in the end they listened to orders and took care of their own, so Steve figured it was worth a shot.

Part of him wanted to head out, see the world after 70 years for the first time, but Tony had invited them to something in Queens and Steve had no desire to sit in a stuffy room with Fury listening to how it ‘wasn’t his call’ and he needed to learn to obey orders. He’d heard that speech enough times during the war. It never changed anything.

“So where are we going exactly?” Clint asked once Thor and Loki had taken off. Thor had promised he would return some day, to continue working with the team and to see someone he called his “beloved Jane”.

“I told you, Queens. Bruce is with me. You guys can follow.” Tony hopped into his car and waited while Bruce did the same, and then they were off. Steve chose to follow on his bike. He needed the fresh air right now after that battle.

They parked in front of an older house in Forest Hills. Tony walked through the door like he owned the place (which, now that Steve thought about it, he might have). “May? Ben?” he called. An older woman appeared in the kitchen doorway, wiping her hands on her apron.

“Tony! I didn’t know you’d be coming back so soon,” she said. Tony shrugged and grinned.

“I was in the neighborhood. Literally. Did you not notice the giant green alien lizards running down the street?” Tony kissed the woman on the cheek and pulled her gently towards the foyer.

“Must have slipped right by me. Lucky for us we’ve got all these new robust superheroes in the city,” the woman replied, poking Tony’s arm. “Who are your friends?”

“Meet the Avengers.” Tony gestured and the woman nodded graciously. “Guys, this is May Parker. Her husband’s an old friend.”

“I’ll tell them you’re here. Peter will be so excited to see you.” The woman—May—turned towards the stairs and called up, “Ben! Get Peter and bring him down. Tony’s here with his team, apparently something about lizards in the neighborhood.”

A white haired man emerged at the top of the stairs. “What about lizards?” he grumbled. “It’s always something with this city. The new mayor, the trash buildup, those incidents with that group of four superheroes—”

“Oh, Ben, you sound like an old timer,” May chided. “Bring Peter to the stairs, tell him there’s a surprise for him.”

Ben nodded and disappeared again. May turned to the team and clasped her hands. “I do want to thank you for all you’ve done for this city today, it’s just wonderful.”

Steve smiled. “Thank you, ma’am, we really—”

He was interrupted by a loud scream. They turned back to the sound just in time for a small blur to rush down the stairs and tackle Tony’s legs. It took Steve a second to process that it was a child now clinging to Tony like a koala and jumping up and down.

He was young, maybe two or so years old, and he looked remarkably like Tony. Dark brown, wavy hair, large brown eyes. The child had a hint of freckles across his nose, but other than that he could have been Tony’s duplicate.

Tony’s personality immediately changed when he saw the boy. He leaned down and scooped the child up, swinging him into his arms with a grin. “Hey, baby boy,” he chuckled. The boy laughed and clapped his hands, and Tony nestled him onto his hip. “Were you good for Aunt May and Uncle Ben while I was gone?” He nodded and Tony smiled and kissed his forehead. “Good. Have you been practicing speaking? You’ve been using words, right?” The boy nodded again and turned to point at the group.

“Friends?” he whispered. His speech sounded a little slurred, but Steve assumed that was due to his young age.

Steve noticed that Tony tapped the back of the boy’s head twice. The boy turned and looked up at Tony’s face, and Tony angled down so he could look in the child’s eyes. “This is my team, the Avengers,” he said, slowly and evenly. Steve frowned in confusion. From what he’d seen Tony would talk faster than anyone could keep up with, jabbering away until someone begged him to slow down. “This is Steve,” Tony continued, “and Clint, and Natasha, and Bruce.” As he said each name, he pointed to the person and waited while the boy looked at them before returning his gaze to Tony.

Tony glanced up to them. “Guys, this is Peter,” he said, just as slowly. “My son.”

Wait. _What_?

Steve glanced around, praying he wasn’t the only one who didn’t know that Tony apparently had a secret son. It looked like he was alone, though, as everyone else simply nodded and accepted it. Natasha was the first to react, carefully wiping her face until only a pleasant smile was left. She stepped forward, extending her hand. “Very nice to meet you,” she told Peter. Peter blushed and buried his head in Tony’s shoulder until Tony tapped his head twice again.

“Use your words,” he said quietly when Peter looked up at him. Peter nodded, chewing on his fingers in thought. He turned back to Natasha and carefully removed his fingers from his mouth.

“Hi,” he said, almost too quietly for them to hear. Tony tapped Peter’s knee once and Peter straightened up. “Hi,” he said again, a little louder this time.

Natasha arched a brow, eyed Peter over quickly, and nodded to Tony. Apparently she had figured something out, something important. Steve was still stuck on the whole ‘Tony Stark, self proclaimed genius-billionaire-playboy-philanthropist, has a toddler son’ bit.

Tony tapped the back of Peter’s head twice. Peter turned and Tony pointed to Clint. “Show him your secret language,” he said. “He’ll know it, I bet.” Peter nodded and wiggled until Tony let him down, then toddled over until he was in front of Clint. He tugged on Clint’s pants until the archer knelt down to his level.

Peter turned back to Tony, who nodded encouragingly. Peter nodded back, turned back to Clint, and made a series of clumsy gestures with his hands.

Clint’s eyes widened dramatically and he grinned. “No way,” he muttered. Peter nodded vigorously and made a few more of the movements. Clint returned them with a few of his own, and soon their hands were blurring from the speed that they were signaling each other.

“Is that… is that sign language?” Bruce asked. Tony nodded and shrugged.

“He’s almost completely deaf,” he explained. “Been that way since he was born. He has hearing aid, but he doesn’t like using them ‘cause they hurt his ears, plus there was that whole incident with them being on the news and everyone talking about them, so he signs and reads lips, mostly. Just make sure he’s looking at you and speak slowly and he’ll catch on what you’re saying.”

Steve blinked and turned to look at Peter again, who was giggling at something Clint had signed. “Stark, your kid’s awesome,” Clint said without taking his eyes off the boy.

Peter turned to Tony, who knelt so Peter could see his lips. “You wanna go get some ice cream, kiddo?” Tony made a few signs along with the words, careful to keep his hands where Peter could see them.

Peter squealed and clapped his hands. He made a few signs and nodded, so Steve took it as a yes. Peter turned back to Clint and tugged on his hand, urging him towards the door.

“Wait, are we invited to get ice cream?” Clint asked. Tony shrugged.

“My kid seems to like you, god knows why, so sure.”

And just like that, the Avengers became a part of Peter’s life.


	2. Peter's Confidence Boost

_'Daddy, can I have another pancake?'_

Tony smiled, kissed his son’s forehead, and signed back, ' _One more, then you’re done, okay baby?'_

Peter nodded and poured another puddle of syrup onto his plate. Tony plopped a pancake onto the center. Peter giggled and tucked in, pausing only to quickly sign ' _thank you'._

Natasha stumbled in, bleary eyed and dressed in fuzzy pajamas. Tony had learned in the six months since the rest of the Avengers moved in that she was anything but a morning person—she’d sleep in as late as possible and required at least three cups of coffee before she could even function. She was almost more addicted than Tony was.

“Morning,” he greeted. She just waved and flopped in the chair next to Peter.

“Coffee,” she mumbled. Tony slid a cup over to her and waited while she gulped half the cup in one swallow. “Any more pancakes?” she asked when she was done.

“Two or three. Want one?” Tony asked. She nodded and he handed her a plate.

 _'What’s she saying, Daddy?'_ Peter signed, glancing over at Natasha. Her hair was covering her face, blocking Peter’s view of her lips.

_'Nothing important, sweetheart. Finish your pancake and go get dressed, okay?'_

Peter nodded and finished his last bite. Hopping down from his chair, he hugged Natasha’s leg quickly before toddling off to get ready.

Natasha smiled and took another drink of coffee. “He’s adorable. Must’ve gotten that from his mom.”

“Doubt it.” Tony sat across from her and took a sip of his own coffee. “She’s serving five years in prison for drug use.”

Natasha choked on her coffee and stared at him pointedly. “Seriously?”

Tony shrugged. “She was definitely a mistake, but she gave me Peter so it wasn’t all bad.”

“Is the drug use why Peter’s deaf?”

“The doctors don’t know. They think it’s a possibility, or at least one of the causes, but there’s no real way to know for sure, especially since she won’t give up her family history.” Tony leaned back and glanced at the doorway when he heard a drawer slam shut. “It doesn’t matter, either way. What’s done is done.”

“That’s a good way to look at it. So why doesn’t he have hearing aids?” Natasha leaned forward on her elbows and arched an eyebrow. “Don’t tell me you're one of those super- paranoid parents that doesn’t believe in modern medicine?”

“You do know I have an entire department in my company devoted to medicine technologies, right?”

Natasha rolled her eyes. “Don’t brag, Stark.”

“I'm not bragging, and yes, Peter has hearing aids.” Tony sighed and rubbed his forehead. “He won’t wear them, not since it was all over the news.”

“What do you mean?”

Tony shrugged. “Couple of months ago, some of the paparazzi took some pictures of Peter with his hearing aids in, and the news got a hold of the pictures and put it all over their news shows. They were asking if he would be competent, if someone who was disabled could take on a company. As if I'm going to force the kid to take over like my dad did.”

“They said _what?”_ Tony glanced up and saw Clint standing in the kitchen doorway, fingers clenched around his bow.

“Don’t worry about it, Barton, the media’s always getting on my case like this. It passed within a couple of days, but Peter doesn’t like when people call attention to his aids so he stopped wearing them.”

Clint looked furious. “That’s moronic! Of all the absolutely ridiculous… I’ll be right back.” He turned and headed towards the elevator.

“You can’t kill the newscasters, Clint,” Natasha called.

“Damn it, Nat, let me have this!”

“What’s his deal?” Tony murmured to her.

“Clint wears hearing aids and people used to tell him he couldn’t be an assassin because he’s almost totally deaf,” she replied.

Clint fell into a chair and glared at Natasha’s coffee cup. “Can’t I just kill one of them?” He turned to Tony. “Did anyone from Fox News bring it up?”

“Bill O’Reilly had a whole segment about it.”

“Perfect. O’Reilly’s been a long time coming.” Clint stood up again, grabbing his bow. Natasha clasped his wrist and tugged him back into the chair.

“Don’t even think about it. O’Reilly’s not on the schedule for another two years at least.”

Clint groaned and flopped his head back. “Come on, Nat, just one little arrow! I promise I’ll cover it up, no one will know it was SHIELD.”

“No.”

Peter ran back in before Clint could say anything else. He held his arms up until Tony obliged and picked him up to sit the boy on his knee.

 _'Can we go to the park today?'_ Peter signed. Clint watched his hands, and Tony swore the man looked upset for a moment.

“This is insane, he’s a toddler and they’re already judging him because he happens to be deaf,” the archer muttered. He was out of Peter’s line of sight, so the boy didn’t see what he was saying.

“You could try talking to him, you know,” Natasha said. “If Peter knew you wore hearing aids, maybe he’d be more comfortable with his.”

Clint watched Tony and Peter sign for a few more seconds before nodding. “Yeah. I’ll see what I can do.”

\--------------------

 _'Come on, Peter, just for a few hours.'_ Tony was kneeling by Peter’s bed again the next morning, signing to him while Peter shook his head and glared at the hearing aids Tony had placed on the bed.

 _'They’ll laugh at me',_ Peter protested. His hands fumbled a few times and he glared them instead.  _'Everyone will laugh.'_ Tony wanted to kill a few reporters himself right then.

_'I swear to you, they won’t. They’re not even awake yet, no one will see them but me.'_

Peter shook his head again and clambered down from the bed to face Tony at eye level. He grabbed Tony’s cheeks and shook his head back and forth. “Don’ wanna,” he said loudly. Tony tapped his arm and Peter lowered his voice. “Don’ wanna,” he repeated.

“I know you don’t, baby, but you have to try. Just one hour, please?”

Peter scrunched up his face and glared at the hearing aids. “No one…see,” he mumbled finally.

“I swear no one will see. Just me, and I’ve seen them lots of times before, right?”

Peter looked up at Tony for a moment, and then nodded reluctantly. Tony sighed in relief and set about putting the hearing aids in and turning them on. “There. How’s that sound?” he asked. Peter smiled a bit at Tony’s voice—he always felt better after hearing it—and tugged Tony’s sleeve. “We go eat now, Daddy,” he insisted. Tony picked him up with a chuckle and headed for the kitchen.

Of course, Clint _had_ to be up already. Tony stifled a groan when Peter started squirming in Tony’s arms. “No!” Peter shouted, turning away from Clint and the kitchen and struggling to get down.

Clint stood up and grabbed Peter by his waist. “Come on, short stuff, I’ve got something to show you,” he said.

Peter shook his head. “No.”

“Yes.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No!”

“You can’t win, kid, just trust me on this.”

“No!”

Clint plopped Peter on the counter and started rummaging through his bow case. “Now I know why they call it the ‘terrible twos’.”

“No!”

“That wasn’t even anything for you to protest, kid.” Clint pulled out a small black plastic case and tossed it in Peter’s lap. “Open that for me, will you? I wanna change these out.”

Peter eyed the case warily before snapping it open. Tony glanced over his son’s shoulder sand saw a pair of small, dark purple hearing aids. He grinned. “Really? Purple?”

“Hey, if your kid can have red ones you don’t get to judge me for purple ones.”

“Peter’s got a pair of bright pink ones and I'm still judging you for the purple ones.”

Peter wasn’t paying attention to their conversation. His mouth had fallen open and he was gaping at the hearing aids. He looked up at Tony, then back down at the hearing aids, then up to Clint. His mouth stretched into an enormous grin.

“Clint too?” he asked cautiously. His speech was still a little slurred, since he wasn't used to hearing his own voice and using it so much. Clint grinned and took the hearing aids out of the case.

“You betcha, kid. Here, I’m gonna switch out my boring old tan ones, alright? You and me’ll be hearing aid buddies. We’ll form a club, or a league. Something with t- shirts.”

“You’re ridiculous,” Tony said. He poured himself a cup of coffee and watched Clint switch out his hearing aids. “And thanks for this,” he added quietly when Peter wasn’t looking. Clint shot him a thumbs- up from behind his back.

Peter didn’t let Clint out of his sight all day. They sat together on the couch, Peter curled in Clint’s lap and leaning against his chest, and watched bad movies with the subtitles on. Tony could only get Peter to eat lunch if Clint was at the table, too. After that, it was physically impossible to get Peter to take his nap in his room, so Tony brought him his ‘special’ red blanket and stuffed monkey and let him sleep in the living room, curled on the floor by Clint’s feet.

“Seriously, thank you,” Tony said as he watched Peter nap. Clint was playing with one of the Stark tablets, feet carefully tucked under Peter’s legs.

Clint nodded and was silent for a while. “It’s not fair, what those assholes say,” he said finally. “They won’t even give him a chance, just ‘cause he’s a little different.”

“Is that what happened with you?” Tony asked.

Clint shrugged. “I was on a mission. In Karachi, trying to hunt down a Pakistani assassin. Shit went down, one of the markets blew up, and I lost 80% of my hearing. SHIELD told me I couldn’t work for them anymore. I was out of the field for nine months before I finally proved myself again, proved that I could still do my job.”

Peter shifted in his sleep, curling closer into Clint’s legs. Clint smiled and leaned down to stroke Peter’s hair away from his eyes. “I don’t like people telling other people they can’t do something just because they’re disabled or some shit.”

“That’s a good way to live.” Tony rubbed his eyes and sighed. “I just wish Peter wouldn’t worry so much about what people think about the aids. He was afraid the rest of the team would laugh at him today, you know.”

“That’s crap,” Clint muttered. “And it’s all the media’s fault. No one on the team would ever even think of laughing at Peter.”

“I know that, and you know that, but he doesn’t like being the center of attention,” Tony replied. “He doesn’t like people looking at him all the time, and he thinks with the aids in people will stare.”

Clint shrugged. “I used to be self- conscious about them, too. We’ll work on it. In a couple months he won’t even remember he’s got them in.”

Tony smiled. “Thanks. Seriously.”

Clint reached down and pulled Peter’s blanket over his shoulders. “Anytime,” he murmured.

\--------------------

After Peter’s nap, Tony got him to sit at the kitchen table (as long as Clint promised to stay in the kitchen) and eat his afternoon snack. Peter insisted that if Clint wouldn’t sit at the table, then Peter should at least be able to sit on Tony’s lap, so he was nestled against Tony’s chest, munching on apple slices with peanut butter.

"Tasha!" Peter shouted when he saw Natasha appear at the doorway.

“Good morning, Peter. What time is it?” Natasha muttered. She was still in pajamas and her hair was in total disarray.

“Are you just now waking up?” Clint asked. “It’s like one in the afternoon. The kid’s already had two meals and a nap, Nat.”

“Shut up or I’ll kill you with your own socks.” Natasha collapsed in a chair and held out her hand expectantly. Clint jumped off the counter and grabbed her puppy dog coffee cup. He filled it with coffee and handed it to her, grinning when she gulped down half her cup.

“Careful what you say,” Tony heard him whisper. “Kid’s got his aids in today for the first time. Don’t make a big deal about it.” Natasha nodded and took another sip of coffee. She glanced over at Peter’s ears, but didn’t say anything. Tony silently thanked her.

“Where Doc B’uce?” Peter asked. He leaned his head up until it knocked against Tony’s chest and looked up eagerly.

“Why? You wanna go visit his lab?” Tony asked. Peter nodded frantically and bounced up and down on Tony’s lap.

“Wanna go! Wanna go!” he cheered.

Tony kissed the top of Peter’s head and pulled his plate closer to the two of them. “Finish your snack and we’ll go, okay?” Peter nodded and grabbed another apple slice. His fingers and cheeks were covered in peanut butter, and Tony made a mental note to clean him up before they went to visit Bruce’s lab.

“Where’s the Star Spangled Man?” Clint asked. He pulled a chair out and sat in it backwards, leaning over the back and picking at a napkin.

Natasha shrugged and got up to refill her coffee cup. “Probably out on one of his city- wide runs,” she said. “He does that sometimes, if he’s feeling cooped up.”

Peter bit into his apple slice and leaned his head back against Tony’s chest. Tony had been worried at first about his head hitting the sharp edges of the reactor, but Peter had learned quickly enough not to put his head there. “Wanna go,” he whispered up to Tony.

“Are you done with your apple?” Tony asked. Peter nodded and finished off the slice in his hand.

“All done!” he said, showing Tony his empty, peanut butter covered hands.

Tony kissed his son’s nose and stood up. “Alright, let’s get you cleaned up.”

“Clint too!” Peter insisted. He leaned over the table and patted Clint’s arm. “Pwease?”

Clint grinned and stood up. “Sure, I’ll come with you, kiddo.”

Natasha finished her coffee and stood. “I’ll come, too,” she said.

Natasha and Bruce were… together? Something, Tony was sure. They’d been living in the Tower for six months now and they always seemed to be near each other, in some way or another. They had even unofficially claimed the loveseat as their own for Thursday night movies. It was weird, but Tony chose not to say anything (mostly because he liked his face the way it was and every time he so much as glanced at them Natasha gave him a death glare).

Bruce was bent over a microscope when they arrived. Peter wriggled down from Tony’s arms and toddled over to tug on Bruce's pant leg. “Up, Doc B’uce,” he demanded.

Bruce glanced down and smiled at Peter. “Magic word?” he asked.

“Pwease?”

Bruce bent down and scooped Peter up. He glanced at Peter’s ears and raised an eyebrow at Tony, who just shrugged and put his finger to his lips. Peter had almost gone a whole day without protesting the hearing aids, which was more than he’d gone in over eight months. It was major progress and Tony wasn’t willing to take any chances over it.

“Whatcha workin' on?” Peter asked. He tapped the table by the microscope.

Bruce settled Peter on his hip and swiveled his stool around to stand up. “Just science,” he said. “Boring stuff.”

“Don’t even go there, the kid’ll get personally offended,” Tony said. “He’s almost more into science than I am.”

“I could use a break, anyway,” Bruce shrugged. “Wanna watch a movie, Peter?” Peter nodded and bounced in Bruce’s arms.

“Yeah! Yeah! Yeah!”

Clint collapsed on Bruce’s sofa and curled his feet underneath him. “Put on something Disney for him, he’s in one of those moods today.” Bruce nodded and headed over to the movie shelf with Peter.

Tony heard the elevator ding and glanced over to see Steve walk into the lab. He was toweling his hair off, looking like he’d just gotten out of the shower. “JARVIS said you’d all be in here,” he said. “Mind if I watch the movie with you?”

Clint patted the sofa next to him and grinned. “We were wondering if you’d run all the way to Maryland or something, Cap.”

Steve shrugged and stretched. “Just around the city for a few hours. I’m still getting used to the new century.”

Tony jumped over the back of the sofa and landed on the opposite side of the couch. “Get over here, then. We'll introduce you to some new kids movies. You’re gonna love _Aladdin._ ”

Steve nodded and sat in the middle of the couch. Once Peter was assured that the movie was safely in and the subtitles were on, he tottered over to Tony and held out his arms until Tony leaned over, plucked him up and tugged him into his lap.

“You’re a little needy today, aren’t you?” he asked.

“No!” Peter insisted.

Tony grinned and leaned over to Steve. “He’s in a ‘no’ phase, too, watch out for that.”

Peter patted Steve’s arm. “No,” he whispered to Steve.

“You stop that.” Tony pulled Peter back into his lap, curling his legs onto the couch and wrapping an arm around Peter’s chest.

Peter giggled and nuzzled into Tony’s neck. He pressed his _‘I love you’_ into Tony’s reactor and settled in to watch the movie. Tony smiled and kissed the side of Peter’s head.

“Trust me, Cap, you’re gonna love this,” he said.

\--------------------

Steve tried paying attention to the movie—and Clint was right, the Genie was _hilarious_ —but he kept drifting back to watch Tony and Peter. In the dimmed lights, Peter’s face was illuminated by the soft glow of the arc reactor as he watched the movie. Every once in a while, he would sign something to Tony and point at the scene they were watching. Tony would sign back, and Peter would watch him intently until Tony finished and leaned back against the couch arm, pulling Peter closer to his chest.

Steve looked over at the loveseat, where Bruce and Natasha were curled up next to each other. They were murmuring in soft tones, head leaned together like they were sharing some big secret. Steve smiled in spite himself and turned back to the movie.

“Daddy,” he heard Peter whisper. “Daddy, I wear my aids tomorrow?”

Out of the corner of his eye, Steve saw Tony grin and kiss Peter's cheek. “Whenever you want, baby,” he murmured back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it's confusing, figuring out what's sign language and what's not, so I've added some apostrophes around the sign language bits for reference (I did it for the first chapter, too). The parts from here on out that are only italicized are thoughts, the ones italicized with apostrophes ('these things') are sign language, and anything bolded will be a text message or news report. 
> 
> Thanks for all the support on this fic! Can't wait to keep updating! Also, my next chapter for You Never Forget Your First will be up by the end of the week!!!!


	3. Business Trips and Terrorist Attacks

“Okay, now find the green square.”

Peter studied the tablet for a while, even taking it from Tony’s hands to twist it upside down. Tony grinned and leaned forward, stretching his legs further on the couch.

“How many sides does a square have?” he hinted. Peter held up four fingers obediently. “Very good. So count the sides and find the one with four.”

“That one,” Peter pointed.

“Very good, baby!” Tony cheered. He swiped the screen and brought up the next set, then handed the tablet back to Peter. “Now try and find the red circle.”

“Anthony _Stark!”_ Tony winced at the sound of clacking heels and turned slightly to face a very angry looking Pepper.

“Pep, darling, what have I done this time?” he asked.

“What have you done? More like what you haven’t done.” Pepper tossed him several files and leaned over the back of the couch. “You haven’t gone to a single board meeting in ten months!”

“Pepper, we discussed this, I'm not the CEO anymore, remember? You took that job, I'm just the chief designer, so I don’t have to—”

“You’re still a board member, Tony,” Pepper cut in. Tony frowned.

“I am?” he asked. “Are you sure, because I swore—” He flipped through the files and paused. “Ah. Apparently I am a board member.”

“You didn’t know you were a board member for your own company?” Clint asked from the armchair. He was watching reruns of _Scooby Doo_ on TV, claiming it was for Peter’s sake.

“Technically it’s not my company anymore, I just design for it,” Tony replied. He flipped through a few of the other files and groaned. “Are you kidding me? The numbers are all wrong, they’ve totally screwed the budget—”

“That one, Daddy,” Peter interrupted. He pointed to the orange oval on the tablet.

“Almost, baby, that’s very close. Try again and remember red is darker than orange,” Tony said gently. Peter nodded and focused on the screen again. “And it’s like the board hasn’t even been trying,” Tony continued to Pepper. “They’re completely screwing over the medical technology department in favor of the defense department—and of course it’s because they’re trying to bring the weapons back again, because isn’t that so typical.”

“You know, you would have a say in all this if you actually _went to a meeting,_ ” Pepper replied.

“That one,” Peter said, pointing to the correct shape.

Tony grinned. “Excellent, Peter, very good. Next one, now, try and find the blue triangle.”

“Tony, will you please focus?” Pepper asked.

Tony handed the files back to her. “I’m trying to teach my kid shapes, Pep, gimme a break, I promise I’m paying attention. But the board convenes in California, back at HQ in Malibu, and I'm kind of across the country.”

“That’s why they invented planes, Tony. Which you happen to own three of.”

“Those are the company’s planes, really—”

“The company that you are still employed with.”

“It’s two weeks before Christmas—”

“The trip won’t take more than two days tops.”

Tony sighed. “I can’t just up and leave, Pep, Peter doesn’t like planes. It was hell getting him out here, I can’t keep dragging him back and forth. Stability and all that.”

“And that’s why there’s such a thing as a babysitter,” Pepper said. “Tony, if you don’t go to the board meeting on Thursday, they’re going to shut you out completely.”

“I can’t just leave Peter with some stranger!” Tony protested.

Clint glanced over and raised a hand. “I can watch the squirt,” he offered.

“There you go,” Pepper said. “You’ve got four superheroes that live in this Tower with you, they can all pitch in and watch Peter while you’re gone for two days.”

Peter tapped Tony’s stomach, just below the arc reactor. “That one,” he pointed.

“That’s purple, sweetheart,” Tony said. “Blue is like the color of the sky. Or Daddy’s reactor light.”

“Oh,” Peter said. “Then that one.”

Tony kissed Peter’s cheek. “Very well done. Wanna do some letters?” Peter nodded and Tony switched apps.

“Tony,” Pepper sighed. “It’s absolutely adorable that you and Peter are learning together, but I need you to—”

“I’m focused, Pep, I'm focused,” Tony said. “And I know what you’re saying, but I can’t just _leave_ Peter.”

“Tony, parents go on business trips all the time,” Pepper replied. “You have the rest of the team to watch Peter. He’ll be fine. You can even call every hour if you want, but you need to be at this meeting if you want to get anything else done again.”

Tony carded his fingers gently in Peter’s hair, watching while he traced the large letters on the tablet. Occasionally he would mess up and his tongue would stick out in concentration as he fixed it.

“Baby, stay here with Clint, okay?” he said finally. Peter nodded and scooted off Tony’s lap so he could stand up. “Come on,” Tony said to Pepper. “You look like you need coffee.”

He waited until the kitchen door was firmly closed and the coffee pot was running before he turned back to Pepper. “I can’t leave Peter,” he started.

Pepper sat at the kitchen table and kicked off her heels. “You already said that,” she reminded him.

“Yeah, well, I have a great reason,” he replied. He handed Pepper a cup, steaming with coffee, and sat down next to her. “This is how it starts, Pepper. Just one meeting, just a few days, and then suddenly I'm spending half my time across the country and Peter grows up with babysitters and nannies for the rest of his life.”

Pepper sipped her coffee and leaned back in the chair. “Just because that’s what your father did—”

“It’s not just him,” Tony cut in. “That’s what always happens, every time there’s a business- oriented parent involved.”

“We’ll make sure that doesn’t happen, I promise.”

“Yeah, but how do you know?”

“Because you won’t _let_ it happen,” Pepper said. “I know you, you’ll call and make sure Peter’s alright every single hour and you’ll video call at night so you can read him stories and when you get back you’re going to give him ice cream and let him stay up late.”

Tony rubbed his temples. “I guess,” he said finally.

“ _I_ know. Tony, Peter’s the best thing to happen to you and you know that. You’ll do whatever it takes to make sure he has the childhood you never did.”

“What if he doesn’t wear his hearing aids because I'm gone?” Tony tried. “It took so long to get him to put them back in, he’s just starting to wear them regularly—”

“That’s why Clint is watching him,” Pepper replied. “He knows Clint has hearing aids. If Clint wears them around the Tower, Peter will, too.”

Tony was silent for a long time. Finally he finished his coffee and sighed. “Fine. I’ll go,” he said. “Two days, that’s it. And I reserve the right to call whenever I want, and talk for as long as I want.”

“As long as you’re in that conference room during the meeting times, I don’t care what you do.” Pepper stood and put their cups in the sink. On her way back, she leaned over the chair and kissed Tony’s cheek. “Now go teach your son letters.”

Tony stood and walked her out. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” he promised. Pepper nodded and stepped in the elevator.

“Daddy, come see! I made a ‘S’ for Stark!” Peter cried. Tony grinned and vaulted over the back of the couch. He landed next to Peter with a bounce and the little boy giggled and crawled into Tony’s lap.

“Lookit!” he said, holding out the tablet.

Tony wrapped an arm around Peter’s chest. “What a wonderful job, sweetheart,” he replied. “Can you show me a ‘P’ for Peter?”

“Uh huh.” Peter went back to work, tongue sticking out again. Tony turned to Clint.

“You’re sure you don’t mind watching him?” he asked. Clint nodded and grinned.

“It’ll be fun. Like a sleepover. I’ll even send you pictures every hour of Peter. And we’ll hold a movie night and I’ll send a whole video if I can get Steve in those Black Widow pajama pants he got for his birthday.”

“I will pay you if you can do that,” Tony grinned. He turned back to Peter and watched him finish his letter. “How about it, baby? You don’t mind spending a few days with the rest of the team while I'm gone, right?”

Peter shrugged and curled into Tony’s arms. “Guess not,” he muttered.

Tony kissed his head. “It’ll be fun. Clint says you guys can have a movie night, and I’ll call to see how you’re doing, okay?”

“’Kay. We watch pwincess movie?”

“Which one?” Clint whispered. Tony shrugged.

“No clue. Good luck with that one.”

\--------------------

“Now, remember you only have one glass of juice every day,” Tony said. He and Peter were in the kitchen, going over the last minute details before Tony had to take off for the meeting. He adjusted Peter on his hip and continued, “Bath time is at 6 pm sharp, and don’t give Clint a hard time when he tries to wash your hair.”

“I won’t,” Peter promised.

“Try to wear your hearing aids as much as possible during the day, okay?” Tony asked. Peter nodded and leaned his head against Tony’s shoulder. “Your spare ones are in this drawer, and remember to put them in your case when you’re done. And don’t wear them in the bathtub.”

“’Kay, Daddy.”

Tony shifted Peter in his arms and headed into the family room. “Promise you’ll be good, okay? I’ll call as soon as I land, and right before you go to bed so I can read you a story. And I’ll call tomorrow, and then I’ll be back by tomorrow night, right before bedtime.”

“And bathtime?” Peter asked hopefully.

“I’ll try and be here before bathtime, too.” Tony leaned against the sofa arm and kissed Peter’s forehead. “I gotta go now, okay? Give me a kiss and I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Peter grabbed Tony’s cheeks and kissed him loudly, giggling when Tony made a face. “Bye bye, Daddy,” he said when Tony put him down. He made the sign for ‘ _daddy’_ as he said it, a habit he had developed recently. Clint said it was from adjusting to speaking so much all of a sudden.

“Bye, baby. I love you. See you tomorrow,” Tony promised.

On the plane ride, Tony pulled his tablet out and opened up the security app he’d developed. “JARVIS, find my son,” he said. The tablet kicked to life and scanned through the Tower.

“Young sir is currently in the kitchen with Agents Romanov and Barton,” JARVIS replied. “They appear to be baking cookies.”

Tony watched them for a moment and smiled. Peter looked like he was having a good time, at least. “I’m going to be overprotective until the day I die, aren’t I, J?” he asked.

“Undoubtedly, sir.”

\--------------------

“Pepper, that meeting was the biggest waste of time…”

Pepper closed the file on her desk and turned to glare at Tony. “It was a closing meeting, Tony, there’s no business involved with those.”

“Then why the hell did I have to go? I don’t care about these rotten old assholes, why do I need to say goodbye to them?”

“It’s a gesture of good faith. And don’t you have a plane to catch?”

“It’s my plane, as you pointed out. That means it’ll wait for me.” Tony collapsed in a chair and flicked one of the multiple moving objects on Pepper’s desk. “You I do care about, so I figured I owed you a goodbye.”

Pepper leaned over the desk. “That’s not the only reason you’re here,” she said finally. “Spill, Stark.”

Tony grinned. “You always knew me so well. It’s actually about Peter. I was wondering if he and I should move back out here—”

“No.”

“You didn’t even let me finish!”

Pepper sighed and stopped the spinning object firmly. “Tony, you’ve got a good thing in New York. Peter’s comfortable there, he likes the Avengers, you like the Avengers—”

“I never said I _liked_ the Avengers.”

“You let them live in your damn Tower, Tony. That implies some level of affection. You’re staying in New York and that’s final.”

“Alright, alright,” Tony surrendered. “I was just wondering, since I’m going to have to keep making these trips.”

“If you need to make this trip again, you hop on one of the planes and come out here. It’s only a five hour flight, it’s no problem for you to fly back and forth.”

 ** _“In other news, a new threat has emerged in the United States.”_** Tony turned to face the TV, where a young, grim- faced reporter was standing near a desecrated building in Los Angeles. **_“This new homegrown terrorist goes by the name ‘Mandarin’ and has claimed responsibility for over thirty different bombings across the West Coast, killing a total of one hundred and forty two people. Intelligence agencies are baffled by the Mandarin, who has left no evidence at any scenes and has sent several cryptic messages to various news channels.”_**

“When did this happen?” Tony asked. “I haven’t heard anything about this guy.”

“He’s been around for a few weeks now. I’m surprised SHIELD didn’t inform the Avengers about him,” Pepper replied. “He goes on and on about the sins of the country, how it’s becoming a sinful and desecrated place or whatnot. He’s obviously mad, but no one’s been able to even find any evidence.”

“Are you kidding me? This guy’s killed over one hundred people and SHIELD hasn’t gotten us in on it yet?” Tony stood and headed for the door. “Call the plane off. I'm going back to the house and picking up a suit.”

“Don’t tell me you’re going after this guy alone!” Pepper protested.

Tony shook his head. “The suit flies faster than any jet. I can get back to New York in two and a half hours and call in the Avengers to help.”

Pepper nodded and followed Tony to the door. She held it open for him and grabbed his wrist when he walked past. “Be careful,” she warned.

Tony grinned. “Aren’t I always?”

\--------------------

“Okay, one more bite of peas and you’re done.”

“No!”

“Half a bite of peas and you’re done.”

“No!”

“Three individual peas and you’re done.”

“No!”

Clint groaned and buried his head in his hands. “I give up, someone else try,” he said. Peter sat next to him at the kitchen table, looking far too smug for a toddler.

“My turn,” Natasha said. She pushed Clint out of his chair and gracefully sat next to Peter. “Will you have some peas for Tasha, _коала_?” she crooned gently. Peter eyed her warily for a second before obediently opening his mouth. “Such a good boy,” she murmured. Peter beamed and reached to take the spoon from Natasha.

“I do it,” he said confidently.

“Are you kidding me?” Clint asked.

“I honestly don’t know why Tony made you babysitter,” Natasha replied. “You have no children skills whatsoever.”

“You’re a coldblooded assassin, you have absolutely no maternal instinct,” Clint argued. “Right?”

“Think again.”

“All done!” Peter announced. He pushed his now empty bowl away and held up his arms expectantly. Clint sighed and picked him up.

“You are so needy,” he said. Peter leaned his head against Clint’s shoulder.

“When Daddy come home?” Peter asked.

“Soon, kiddo, don’t worry about it. He’ll be here.”

“Want Daddy.”

Natasha leaned up and kissed Peter’s cheek. “I know you do, _коала_ , and we promise he’ll come home in a little while.”

Peter chewed on his fingers and watched Natasha intently for a second. “Wanna movie,” he said finally.

“What do we say?”

Peter held out his free hand to Natasha. “Pwease?” he asked quietly.

Natasha reached over and took him from Clint’s arms. “Very good. What movie shall we watch?”

“Pwincess movie.” Peter pointed to the couch and waited until Natasha sat with him in her lap before grabbing Tony’s tablet. “Pwincess,” he repeated.

“Aren’t there hundreds of different princess movies?” Bruce asked. He was lounging in the armchair, but he moved to sit on the couch next to Natasha after she and Peter were settled.

“I know which one he means,” Natasha replied. She typed in a few commands and _Princess Diaries_ started up.

“Are you serious? I’ve been trying to figure out which movie he meant all day!” Clint called. “I thought he meant one of the animated Disney ones.”

Natasha shrugged. “Sometimes he does. It depends what mood he’s in.”

Clint frowned. “Your maternal instinct is, like, weirdly in sync with this kid.”

Steve came in just as the opening credits were ending. “What are we watching?” he asked.

“Pwincess movie!” Peter cried. He tapped the empty cushion next to him and Natasha. “Sit.”

Steve chuckled and sat down next to them. “Is it any good?” he asked Clint.

“It’s amazing,” Clint replied. “Life changing, seriously.”

“Pardon the intrusion, but there is a Code Clooney concerning sir,” JARVIS cut in. Bruce was up and out of his chair almost immediately, heading for the phone.

“Code Clooney?” Clint asked. “He named an emergency code after George Clooney?”

“Why do you even question anything Stark does?” Natasha asked.

Bruce was on the phone now, partially hidden in the kitchen and murmuring in hushed tones. Steve frowned and went to see what was wrong.

“How long ago did you see him?” Bruce was asking. “Maybe it’s a glitch on JARVIS’s part.”

Whatever the person on the other line said, it clearly wasn’t good. Bruce’s face dropped and grew pale, and he rubbed his forehead as though in pain. “Just… if you hear anything, anything at all… yes, we’ll tell you, too, if something happens. Thank you, Pepper. I'm sure… I'm sure he’s fine.”

Bruce hung up and sighed, dropping his head into his hands. “Did something happen?” Steve leaned against the counter next to Bruce.

“Code Clooney means there was an emergency situation at Tony’s house in Malibu,” Bruce replied. “According to Pepper there were reports of an explosion, in the area of the house. She said Tony had gone back there to get a suit so he could get back here faster. Something about a terrorist on the West Coast, called the Mandarin.”

“Does she know if Tony was in the house?” Steve asked in alarm.

“No news so far, but he told her he would call when he had left the house, and she said… she said he hadn’t called.” Bruce sat down at the kitchen table and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Christ, if something happened and Peter found out…”

 _Shit, Peter._ Steve glanced into the living room, assuring himself that Peter hadn’t heard any of the conversation. He was engrossed in the movie, leaning forward on Nat’s lap and pointing every time his favorite characters came onscreen.

“We can’t tell him,” Steve said. “We don’t know if anything’s happened, and if we tell him it might really damage him.”

Bruce nodded. “We can tell him his flight was delayed, or something like that. We’ll have to tell Clint and Natasha, later, but for now we’ll just… I guess, just pretend like nothing is happening.”

Steve nodded and went back into the living room with Bruce close behind. Peter turned and leaned over Natasha’s shoulder.

“Movie! Movie!” he insisted. Steve took his place on the couch again and silenced Natasha with a quick look.

“Alright, Peter, we’re watching,” Bruce said. He sat on Natasha’s other side and turned the volume up a bit. “Now, what part are we at?”

\--------------------

“Sir? Sir!”

Tony groaned and shook himself awake. He was in the suit, flying somewhere—God knows where—and JARVIS was yelling in his ear. He mumbled some response that he hoped was coherent.

“That’s the signal for the power dropping below 5%,” JARVIS informed him. That explained the pinging sound. The beeping grew more urgent, and then Tony was freefalling into a large clump of trees.

He crash- landed, flipping a few times before dragging to a stop. “Ow,” Tony groaned. He managed to tear off the mask and looked around. “It’s snowing.” That sounded ridiculous out loud. “Where are we, upstate?”

“We’re five miles outside of Rose Hill, Tennessee,” JARVIS said.

“Why?” Tony sat up and stifled a groan. “JARVIS? Not my idea.”

“I prepared a flight plan,” JARVIS said simply.

“Okay, great. Open the suit.” He sat up and shivered in the sudden cold. “That’s brisk.”

“Sir, I think I might be malfunctioning,” JARVIS told him. The voice was becoming more garbled, more sporadic, and Tony started poking around quickly.

“Okay, J, just hang on for a second and we’ll call—”

“I actually think I need to sleep now, sir.” With that, the suit flickered off and shut down, and Tony was alone.

Maybe it was the freezing temperatures or the possible concussion that Tony had, but the next time he focused again he was sitting in a barn with the suit sitting on a faded couch and a kid pointing a potato shooter at him.

“Freeze,” the kid said. Tony nodded and put his hands up. “Don’t move.”

“You got me,” Tony said simply. The kid was older, maybe nine or ten, and was wrapped in several layers of flannel and a worn hat. “Nice potato gun. Barrel’s a little long. Between that and the wide gauge it’s gonna diminish your FPS.”

The kid shot a glass on a high shelf to prove a point and Tony resisted the grin that was threatening to appear. “And now you’re out of ammo.” _Just like Peter,_ he thought. _Always has to prove his point._

“What’s that thing on your chest?” the kid pointed.

“It’s an electromagnet. You should know—you’ve got a box of them right here.”

“What does it power?”

Tony just pointed to the suit.

“Is that… is that Iron Man?” The kid grinned and stepped forward.

“Technically I am.” _Kids always like the suit best_.

“Technically you’re dead.” The kid shoved a newspaper in Tony’s arms and went to inspect the suit. Tony opened the paper and read the headlines:  ** _Mandarin Attack: Stark Presumed Dead._**

 _Oh my god, Peter’s going to see this,_ Tony thought to himself. Fighting down the surge of panic, he prayed that the rest of the team was keeping Peter away from the public news, at least until Tony could contact them and reassure them that he was in fact still breathing.

“Valid point,” he said instead.

“What happened to him?” The kid was practically climbing on the suit now. Tony sat down across from him and shrugged.

“Life. I built him, I take care of him, I’ll fix him.”

“Like a mechanic,” the kid said.

No one had called him that in a long time. “Yeah,” Tony replied.

\--------------------

“It’s been four days,” Natasha hissed. She was sitting with Bruce and Steve at the kitchen table while Clint gave Peter a bath in the other room. “Eventually Peter’s going to see a newspaper, or hear a report, and he’s going to find out that everyone thinks Tony is dead. Why hasn’t Tony called?”

Even though everyone was reporting Tony as deceased, the rest of the Avengers were convinced it was only because that was what Tony wanted them to think. With the suit and JARVIS’s autopilot override, it was likely the suit would have gotten Tony out safely before the Mandarin blew up the house.

“It’s possible he can’t reach a phone right now,” Steve told her. “Or he’s handling it himself and doesn’t want to give his location away?”

“Or he’s lying dead in a ditch somewhere because he hurt himself going back for that damn suit,” Natasha replied. She sounded stressed, like she was actually worried about Tony. Steve wondered if she had a soft spot for the genius after all. “What do we do about Peter?”

“Keep watching after him and hope that Tony gets home soon.” Bruce shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant. Steve knew he wasn't sleeping, though, and was eating less than usual as well. He was just as worried as the rest of them. Bruce stood up and gestured towards the door. “Come on, let’s go see how Clint’s holding up.”

“Alright, kid, just hold still and let me wash your hair—” Clint was saying when they arrived at the bathroom.

“No!” Peter shoved Clint’s hands away and folded his arms against his chest. “Want Daddy!”

“I know you do, kid, but your dad isn’t here right now and you want to be super clean for him when he gets home, right?”

Steve knelt beside the tub and leaned forward. “Peter, please listen to Clint,” he said softly. “I promise your dad will be home soon, okay?”

Peter pouted but scooted forward enough for Clint to scrub his hair. “I wear Daddy PJs,” he said when Clint lifted him out and wrapped him in a towel.

“Whatever that means, sure, kid,” Clint replied.

Peter toddled out of the bathroom and into his bedroom, where he dropped the towel and pointed to a drawer. “Daddy PJs,” he insisted. Steve opened the drawer and found a pair of neatly folded Iron Man pajamas. The next drawer had several Pull Ups, so Steve took out one of those, too. Peter opened his arms and Steve bent down to help him get dressed.

“Want Daddy,” Peter whispered after Steve pulled the pajama shirt over his head. He looked like he was about to cry. Steve finished dressing the boy and tucked him into the bed.

“I promise your dad will be home soon, okay?” Steve said. Peter nodded and wiped at his eyes a bit. “Do you have your hearing aids back in?”

Peter clambered over to the bedside table and pulled out his bright green case. He popped it open and Steve helped him put them in. “We’ll keep them in for a bit, and I’ll read you a story, okay?”

Peter nodded and grabbed a book from his bookshelf. “This one,” he said. Steve looked at the cover and grinned when he saw Dr. Seuss’s name on the front.

“I know this guy,” Steve said. “He used to write a long time ago.”

He read the title— _Dr. Seuss’s Sleep Book—_ and started reading as Peter settled into his covers.

“The news just came in from the County of Keck…”

“That a very small bug by the name of Van Vleck is yawning so wide you can look down his neck,” a voice finished from the doorway. Peter’s head shot up and he let out a high squeal.

“ _Daddy_!” He launched from the bed and into Tony’s arms. Tony spun him around and kissed his forehead, chuckling softly.

“Hi, baby,” he said. Peter wrapped his arms and legs around Tony and clung like a baby koala.

“Hi,” Peter mumbled into the side of Tony’s neck.

Tony sat on the bed next to Steve and shot him a quick smile. “I’ve read that book so many times I know it by heart,” he said quietly. “Thanks for reading to him tonight.”

“Where have you been?” Steve whispered. Tony just pressed his finger to his lips and pointed down to Peter.

“Were you good for the Avengers while I was gone, Peter?” Tony asked instead. Peter nodded and lifted his head.

“We watch pwincess movie an’ I eat _all_ my peas,” he said confidently. “An’ I help Tasha make cookies. An’ I wear my aids.”

“Very good, sweetheart, such a good boy.” Tony kissed Peter’s forehead and settled down in the bed. “You want Steve to finish the story?”

“Uh huh.” Peter stuck his fingers in his mouth and buried into Tony’s arms. “Pwease?” he added hopefully to Steve. Steve grinned and opened the book again.

“This may not seem very important, I know,” he read, “But it is. So I'm bothering telling you so.”

\--------------------

“Where have you been?” Steve asked after Tony closed Peter’s bedroom door.

“Tennessee, then Miami,” Tony replied. He stretched and winced a bit. “It’s been a wild ride, Cap.”

“You’ve got a lot of explaining to do,” Steve said. He smiled and wrapped a quick arm around Tony. “But I'm glad you’re okay.”

Tony patted his shoulder and headed for the living room. “Come on and I’ll tell you all about it,” he said. “As long as you make me some coffee.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also called: The chapter based around Iron Man 3 because I love that movie so much.
> 
> Natasha's nickname for Peter, коала, means 'koala' in Russian.
> 
> I know I said I was going to put up a chapter for the College AU, and I swear to you I will, but I was so excited to write this one that I got too focused on it. The College AU one is top priority now, I swear.
> 
> Also, just a side note, but Peter's favorite character in Princess Diaries is totally Joe the driver.


	4. Making New Friends

Peter loved Thor.

Like, _loved_ him. Thor came down one day in a storm of lightning and hail, landing on the launch pad with a thud, and Peter flipped out.

“Didja see that, Daddy?” he asked, jumping up and down at the window.

“I saw, baby, I saw,” Tony replied. He resisted the urge to roll his eyes when Thor flipped his hair a bit as he straightened up. Nordic gods were such drama queens.

“Good morning, friends!” Thor boomed. He set Mjolnir on the counter and beamed down at Peter. “And good morning to you, young warrior.”

Peter blushed and hid behind Tony’s leg. “Hi,” he whispered. Tony nudged him out and knelt beside him.

“This is our friend Thor,” he said. “He comes from a really far away place, and he’s here to visit us for a while.”

“Hi,” Peter said again. He then immediately ran forward and wrapped himself around Thor’s leg. “Wanna play?” he asked. “Pwease, pwease, pwease?”

“I would dearly love to play with you, my young friend,” Thor said seriously. He allowed Peter to pull him into the living room and pull him down onto the carpet with him.

And that was it. Peter just fell in with Thor, like peas in a pod. Add in Clint to the mix and they became what Tony liked to call the ‘Terror Trio’.

 _‘I want Thor to do it,’_ Peter signed when Tony reached out to wash his hair during bath one night. Tony sighed and scrubbed at Peter’s head.

 _‘Thor is in New Mexico right now,’_ he explained.

“But I want Thor!” Peter whined aloud. He slapped his hands in the tub and splashed water everywhere.

Tony loved Peter more than anything in his life. But he was so ready for the terrible twos to be over.

“If you keep whining, Thor’ll hear you all the way in New Mexico and he’ll be sad,” Tony said. Peter gasped and clapped his hands over his mouth.

“I be good,” he whispered through his fingers. Tony kissed his forehead and washed the shampoo out gently.

“Thank you, baby,” Tony grinned. At this point, he wasn’t above playing dirty to get things done until Peter reached a more sensible age.

“That’s low, Stark,” Clint said from the doorway. Tony turned and shot him a glare while he drained the tub and pulled Peter out. “Manipulating the kid’s friendship with Thor to get what you want? Low.”

“At this point, I'm doing what I have to do to survive the next three months,” Tony replied.

“You do know that the terrible twos don’t just magically stop when he turns three, right?”

“Shh. Let me dream.” Tony wrapped Peter up and lifted him in his arms. Peter poked his head out from the towel and giggled when Tony made a face and groaned. “You’re getting heavy, Peter.”

“Nu uh,” Peter shook his head.

“Uh huh. You’re a chubby baby now. Soon I won’t be able to carry you anymore.”

Peter stared at Tony with wide eyes. “No!” he cried, lunging forward to wrap his arms around Tony’s neck.

Tony chuckled and shifted Peter in his arms so the boy could see his mouth. “Relax, baby, Daddy’s only playing. I’ll carry you as long as you want.”

“Forever,” Peter insisted.

Clint snorted. “Now you’ve done it.”

“Shut it.”

“Daddy said a no-no,” Peter giggled.

Before Tony could respond—and really, what would he say to that? —a bolt of lightning flashed outside and thunder boomed from storm clouds that appeared out of nowhere. Peter clapped and cheered. “Thor! Thor! Thor!”

Tony rolled his eyes. “I’m being replaced by a guy that wears curtains.”

Clint clapped his shoulder. “It was bound to happen some day. Just take solace in the fact that it wasn’t Cap that ended up taking the spot as favorite.”

“Steve wouldn’t know what to do with himself if he were Peter’s favorite,” Tony replied. “He barely spends time with him as it is.”

Peter wriggled in Tony’s arms, trying to get down. Tony put him on his feet and Peter raced down the hall, draped in his towel from head to toe like it was a cloak. When he reached the balcony, he bounced up and down and stared up at the sky.

As if on cue, another bolt of lightning streaked across the sky. It hit the balcony and crackled with electricity. By the time it had faded, Thor was standing where it had struck, cape blowing behind him. Tony rolled his eyes again.

“Show off,” he muttered to Clint.

“Thor!” Peter cried. Thor bounded over and scooped Peter up to spin him around.

“Hello, young warrior!” he boomed. Peter laughed and cuddled against his new favorite Avenger.

“Hi,” Peter said. He turned to Tony. “Thor still lift me,” he told the genius seriously. Tony could almost feel the self-satisfaction radiating from his son.

“Thor is a demi- god and has muscles the size of tree trunks,” Tony replied. “He could lift you if you were a grown- up.”

Peter turned to Thor and tapped his chin. “Daddy say I chubby,” he whispered loudly. Thor grinned.

“I am not sure of that. Now Volstagg, that is a man of large width. Once you reach his girth, we will discuss my ability to lift you.”

Thor had told Peter all about ‘Lady Sif and the Warriors Three’, and now Peter was obsessed with stories about the famed friends of Thor.

Tony let Peter stay up ten minutes past his bedtime so the boy could talk to Thor and hear some of his stories. For all his griping, Tony was secretly pleased that his son got along so well with the rest of the team. Natasha was his beloved Tasha, Clint was his hearing aid buddy, Thor was his playmate, Bruce was his science companion, and Steve—well, Steve painted with him, and read him stories sometimes, and that was good enough for him. It wasn’t a normal household, for sure, but Peter was safe and loved and happy and that was all Tony wanted.

\--------------------

 _‘Can Thor stay forever?’_ Peter signed one night. Tony closed the book they had been reading and curled up next to Peter in bed.

 _‘Of course he can,’_ he replied. _‘For as long as he wants to.’_

_‘Thor said he wants to stay forever. Can he stay forever?’_

_‘Forever and ever.’_ Tony leaned over and kissed Peter’s forehead, then his cheeks and nose. Peter batted at Tony’s face gently.

“Daddy, no,” he giggled. Tony grinned and pushed up to loom over his son.

“No? No what?” he asked playfully. “No kisses? You mean like this?” With that, he leaned down and pressed kisses over every inch of Peter’s face. Peter squirmed and squealed with laughter.

“No! No!” Peter cried.

“No more kisses on your face? How ‘bout your belly then?” Tony lifted Peter’s pajama shirt and kissed at his stomach. Peter laughed even harder when Tony’s beard rasped against his skin.

“Daddy! No more tickles!”

Tony relented and fell on his side next to Peter. _‘You want me to keep reading?’_ he signed. Peter curled against Tony’s stomach and grabbed at the book Tony had put down earlier. “I guess that’s a yes,” Tony murmured to himself. He picked up the book and settled in to read again.

“The songbirds sing in trees above. ‘It’s time to sleep, my love, my love.’”

Once Peter was fast asleep, Tony tucked him in and gently took his hearing aids out. He kissed his son’s forehead, lingering for a moment and breathing in Peter’s scent of apple shampoo and baby powder. “Sleep tight, baby boy,” he whispered.

Tony collapsed on the couch in the living room and threw an arm over his eyes. “JARVIS, find a movie and put it on. Something with explosions and minimal plot. Nothing that requires a lot of thinking.”

“Of course, sir. Perhaps I should just compile video from your latest battle with the Wrecking Crew.”

“You’re hilarious, J. Remind me to reprogram the sass out of you first thing tomorrow.”

“I’ll be sure to put it on your calendar, sir.”

Tony heard someone chuckle from the doorway. He pushed himself onto his elbows and glared at Steve. “He’s a menace,” he explained. “If I let JARVIS get away with cracks like that I’d never have any control in this house.”

“Pretty sure that ship already sailed,” Steve replied. He sat in the armchair and glanced at the television. “Watching anything good?”

“Probably not, knowing JARVIS.” Tony looked over and rolled his eyes. “ _Jonah Hex._ Awesome.”

“You know, if you’re not busy, I’ve still got a couple movies on my list I haven’t seen,” Steve said. Tony sat up and gestured, and Steve handed over his black book that he kept on him. Tony had given it to him after he had found out the supersoldier hadn’t caught up with any of the seventy years he’d missed, and he’d been religiously writing down things people suggested to him.

“You haven’t seen _Rambo_ yet?” Tony asked. Steve shrugged and leaned back in the chair.

“I just finished the Star Wars series. Which, by the way, the first three weren’t very good.”

“Okay, first of all, just because they have the numbers one through three doesn’t mean they’re the first three, and secondly, please tell me you didn’t watch _Phantom Menace_ thinking it was the very first Star Wars movie,” Tony replied.

Steve shrugged again. “The box set said it was the first movie.”

Tony rubbed his temples. “I am so, very sorry about that. No one should ever have to experience that first. I’ll make it up to you: JARVIS, put _Rambo_ on pronto.”

As _Jonah Hex_ cut off and the opening credits for _Rambo_ started, Steve stood up and went into the kitchen. “Want some popcorn?” he asked.

“Do I even own popcorn?”

“Clint bought some industrial- size boxes of the stuff. Said it was a crime that you had an AI that could play any movie known to man and you didn’t have popcorn to go with it.”

“Then yeah, sure.”

Tony heard Steve put the popcorn in the microwave and paused the movie until it was done popping. “Can I ask you a question?” he said when Steve returned with two bowls. “Why don’t you spend any time with Peter?”

Steve frowned in confusion. “What do you mean?” he asked.

Tony shrugged and leaned back against the couch. “Just that the rest of the team plays with him and, you know, spends more than a half an hour at bedtime with him. I mean, if you’re not comfortable with kids I get it, I just thought…”

“No, I like Peter,” Steve interrupted. “Really, it’s just… you know, since he’s… I mean…”

Tony snorted. “Because he’s deaf you think you can’t spend time with him?”

Steve looked a little sheepish. “I don’t know any sign language,” he replied. “He’s only just started wearing his hearing aids. I promise, I’ll start spending time with him—”

“You don’t have to promise, Cap,” Tony grinned. “He’s not your son, I was just worried you hated kids or something.”

Steve smiled a little. “I love them, actually. It’s a little strange, living with one, especially since I never thought I’d have any.”

“Really? Not once?”

Steve glanced at the television and chewed on a piece of popcorn. “When I was younger, I wasn’t exactly a ladies man,” he said finally. “I was so sick all the time, hardly anyone even wanted to be near me. After the serum, it just… didn’t seem important anymore.”

Tony opened his mouth to answer, but was cut off by a soft, “Daddy?” He turned and saw Peter standing in the hallway, wrapped tightly in his Hulk blanket.

“Hey, baby, what are you doing up?” he asked.

Peter hesitated, then ran forward and jumped into Tony’s open arms. “Bad dream,” he mumbled into Tony’s shirt.

Tony tapped his head twice and Peter looked up. “You want some warm milk?” Peter nodded and Tony stood with the boy in his arms. He glanced over at Steve. “Want something to drink, Cap?”

Steve smiled and stood, and JARVIS paused the movie. “I’ll come get something, sure.”

\--------------------

“Why does your son keep wearing the same five shirts?” Natasha asked one day.

“He insists on only wearing Avengers shirts,” Tony replied. “And I have a hard time finding them.”

“Where the hell do you shop?” Clint snorted. “There are shirts with our faces on them practically everywhere.”

“Well, excuse me,” Tony mumbled. He was sitting next to Peter on the living room floor, watching while his son made shapes with Play- Doh. “And quit cursing while Peter’s in the room.”

“Daddy, triangle,” Peter showed him proudly. Tony kissed the boy’s head.

“Very good, sweetheart, that’s wonderful,” he grinned. Peter held it up to Natasha next.

“Lookit, Tasha!” he said excitedly.

“I see it, _коала_ , it’s very nice,” Natasha replied. “Now try a square.” Peter nodded and happily squished the triangle before starting the next shape with purple Play- Doh. “We can take him out shopping today,” she said to Tony. “We’ll all go. It’ll be fun.”

“Do you even know what fun is?” Clint asked her. She threw a grape at him and he caught it in his mouth with a smirk.

Tony leaned over and pressed a kiss to Peter’s temple. “What do you think, baby boy?” he murmured. “You wanna go shopping with the team?”

Peter nodded and clapped, splattering Play- Doh across the room. “Pwease!”

“Okay, finish your shape for Tasha and we’ll go get ready.” Tony leaned back and glanced over at Steve. “Cap? You up for a field trip?”

“Only if I can get him a cheesy Captain America shirt,” Steve replied. Tony grinned.

“Deal. I’ll go get the good doctor from his nerd cave and we’ll go.”

Bruce was hunched over a microscope—as usual. Tony pulled out a stool and sat next to Bruce.

“Natasha doesn’t think my son is fashionable enough so we’re going shopping,” he said. “There’s ice cream in it for you if you go.”

“You know me so well.” Bruce leaned back and stretched. “I guess I could step away for a few hours. This research is for Reed Richards, anyways.”

“In that case, you can step away for the rest of the day. That pretentious asshole could stand to wait.”

“I don’t know what your problem is with Reed.”

“He’s a self- righteous, arrogant asshole with a God complex.”

“Right, so you two should be best friends.”

Tony grinned and clapped Bruce’s shoulder. “Exactly. The whole ‘self- righteous’ thing means I don’t play well with others that are too much like me. Come on, let’s go make my son pretty for Nat’s sake.”

Peter was already changed out of his pajamas by the time Tony and Bruce came back upstairs. His shirt was on backwards and his shoes were on the wrong feet, but Tony considered it a major step forward that his Pull- Up wasn’t on his head.

“Come here, baby, let’s get you fixed up.” Tony knelt beside him and set about fixing Peter’s shirt. “What kind of clothes do you want today?”

“’Vengers shirts,” Peter said. “Lots an’ lots.”

Tony glanced at Natasha and raised his eyebrow. “What did I tell you?”

“At the very least we can give him some variety,” she replied.

Natasha must have called Thor, because he met them outside the first store. “Young warrior, I have come to assist in finding you clothing with my face on it!” he cried. Peter ran forward and jumped into his arms.

“Lookit, I wear you today,” he said proudly, showing Thor his shirt with the demi- god’s face on it.

“It is worthy of a king,” Thor replied seriously. “Come, let us find more.”

“Remember there are other people on this team,” Tony said. “It’ll seem biased if he comes out with nothing but Thor shirts. Hulk might get angry.”

\--------------------

Peter wandered through the store, looking up at all the shirts. Thor was behind him, but he had stopped to look at a green Loki shirt and Peter was bored.

He found a mirror and giggled at his reflection, tapping on the glass and looking around to find someone to show. The only other person near him was a man in a black jacket. Peter tugged on his pants.

“Lookit,” he said, pointing to the mirror. “That me!”

The man knelt down, and Peter thought he saw the sun shine off his arm which was weird because that _never_ happened to Peter, but then the man was looking in the mirror with him and smiling so that was alright.

“That is you, yes,” the man said. Peter banged on the glass again and made a silly face like Daddy did all the time.

“Make one, too,” he said when the man just smiled at Peter’s face. The man looked at him, then shrugged and stuck out his tongue and crossed his eyes. Peter giggled. He liked the man.

“Peter?” he heard Daddy call. Peter turned to the man and put his finger on his lips.

“Shh. I play hide- an’- seek with Daddy,” he whispered.

The man nodded and put his finger on his lips, too. “Does your Dad know you’re playing hide- and- seek?” he asked quietly.

“Nu- uh,” Peter shook his head.

“Maybe we should tell someone else that you know, just in case.” Peter nodded and looked around. He saw Cap and ran over to him, ducking under some shirts on the way.

“Cap, Cap, Cap.” He tugged on Cap’s hand until Cap knelt down. “We play hide- an’- seek with Daddy.”

“Who? You and me?” Cap asked. Peter shook his head and tugged on Cap’s hand.

“Nu- uh. Me an’ the man,” Peter replied. “Come on. I show you.”

He pulled Cap over to the mirror and looked around, but the man was gone. “Come back!” he called. Cap looked around, too, but Peter couldn’t see the man anywhere. He pouted.

“Were you talking to strangers, Peter?” Cap asked. “You know you’re not supposed to do that.”

“But he make silly faces with me an’ had a funny arm,” Peter replied.

“What do you mean funny?”

“Like Daddy’s suit. Shiny.”

Cap went quiet and looked around even more. Peter tugged on his hand until Cap leaned down and scooped him up. “Peter, did the man have brown hair and blue eyes?” Cap asked.

“Uh- huh. An’ a black coat.”

Cap pulled out his phone. “Okay. Come on and let’s go find your Dad. We’ll play hide- and- seek with him later, alright?”

“Okaaay,” Peter sighed. He leaned his head against Cap’s shoulder while Cap talked on his phone to someone. Peter heard him say ‘Bucky’ and something about winter, but then he spotted Daddy and wriggled until Cap put him down.

“Daddy, come lookit the mirror!” he called.

\--------------------

“Wait, you really think the man in the store was Bucky?” Tony asked. The team was sitting outside the ice cream shop, enjoying the sun while they ate.

“I’m not sure,” Steve replied. “Peter said he had a ‘shiny’ arm.”

Peter nodded, cheeks stuffed with chocolate ice cream. “Uh huh, like Daddy’s suit,” he repeated in a muffled voice.

“Don’t talk with your mouth full, baby,” Tony said. Peter swallowed obediently and stole a bite of Tony’s ice cream. “And it could have been anyone, just a soldier with a prosthetic arm.”

Tony didn’t know much about Bucky, except that he had apparently survived his fall in 1945 and had been Hydra’s top brainwashed assassin for the past seventy years (and seriously, did anyone _actually_ die during World War II?). Steve had met up with him in DC a few weeks after Tony had returned from his match with the Mandarin and Aldrich, and he’d been looking for him ever since with Natasha and some guy Steve had met named Sam.

“I know, but… it’s pretty strange, to just be a coincidence,” Steve insisted. “I mean, what if it was Bucky and he’s in New York, looking for us?”

“We’re not exactly hiding, Steve,” Clint cut in. “Practically everyone knows we live in the Tower these days. If he wanted to find us, all he has to do is ring the doorbell.”

Steve sighed and swirled his spoon in his ice cream. “You’re right,” he said finally. He looked so upset that Tony felt bad about tearing down his hopes.

“I’ll tell you what,” he said finally. “I’ll get JARVIS to start running scans on public video feeds, from stores and restaurants. We’ll put his face up in the database and if JARVIS finds someone he’ll send the feed straight to your phone.”

Steve beamed up at him and Tony felt something in his chest warm up. He brushed it off as an arc reactor malfunction. “Thank you, Tony, really,” he said.

Tony shrugged and helped Peter scoop up another spoonful of ice cream. “Don’t mention it, Cap. That’s what I do best.”

It took another two weeks, but JARVIS found Bucky. He’d been in New York all along, hiding out in Brooklyn while he tried to remember his life before Hydra brainwashed him. Steve had immediately taken him to SHIELD and worked steadily with him to regain his memories.

When Steve brought Bucky to the Tower after three months, Tony was ready to protest—really, two assassins had been one thing, but three was a little overkill—but Steve had shot him a smile brighter than the sun and Tony was slightly ashamed to admit that he had lost all train of thought in that moment.

If anyone asked after that, Tony would claim it was Steve’s American patriotism and wholesomeness radiating from his pores that had blinded him long enough for Steve to move Bucky into the Tower and make him an unofficial Avenger.

(But if Tony was being honest, he just really liked seeing Steve smile).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because Bucky meeting Peter and making silly faces with him gives me so many emotions. Also we all know Thor is totally the 'cool uncle' that spoils Peter and runs wild with him through the Tower. BTW, I always see a lot of fics that depict kid!Peter as this perfect toddler that never fusses or does anything wrong and let me tell you: that is so far off from reality it hurts. There is no such thing as a perfectly sweet toddler. It is a myth. Toddlers are whiny, fussy, self- centered babies that smile up at you with big eyes one minute and then knock over an entire shelf of toys because they didn't get their favorite cookie the next. You love them and hate them. Trust me. The terrible twos are so real.  
> (The 'no' phase is also real and it is terrifying).
> 
> Remember when I said I was going to put up a new chapter of You Never Forget Your First by the end of the week? Yeah, I totally meant to, but I got so wrapped up in this story and just needed to get these things down. I swear, the chapter is coming.  
> I swear.
> 
> (also I added a lot of Tony and Peter sweet moments in this chapter because I've been feeling sick and needed the extra fluff for comfort. oops.)


	5. The Odd Couple

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SEX.

“Trust me, you’re gonna like it here,” Steve said as the elevator doors opened. Bucky nodded wordlessly and glanced around while Steve guided him through the kitchen and into the living room. “This is where we spend most our time,” Steve continued. “Mostly them trying to ‘catch me up’ on the modern age or whatever. You’ll like some of it, though. _Star Wars_ , classic rock, Batman.”

“What’s that?” Bucky asked. He nodded towards the TV, which was currently playing some scientific- looking show. Aliens and new technology and things like that.

“Oh, Clint’s really into this show, _Doctor Who_. It’s pretty good so far, I like the ninth one.”

“There’s more than one?”

A man’s head popped up from the back of the sofa. It was the archer, Barton or something like that. “Dude, you’ve never seen Doctor Who? What the hell?”

Bucky arched an eyebrow. “Hydra. Brainwashing. Seventy years.”

“Oh yeah. Sorry.” The archer didn’t look overly apologetic. Bucky glared and sat on the other sofa awkwardly.

“Bucky, this is Clint,” Steve introduced. “Clint, this is Bucky Barnes.”

“Hey.” Clint got up and flopped next to Bucky on the other sofa, completely ignoring personal space. “Anyways, it’s a show about a guy, who’s an alien, called a Time Lord, right? So he travels around in his ship, called the TARDIS, which stands for Time and Relative Dimensions in Space, and he’s disguised it to look like an old- fashioned police box, and anyways…”

Clint stayed with him for the next half hour, discussing the different Doctors and their companions and theories on different subplots. When he was done with that, he moved on to other shows: _Star Trek, Game of Thrones, M*A*S*H, The X- Files_. Steve had snuck out at some point, claiming he had a sparring session with Natasha. Bucky wasn’t really paying attention. He was focused on the shows, and, more importantly, on Clint.

\--------------------

“If I win, you owe me dinner.”

Bucky swung his leg low, catching Clint by the ankles and flipping him. Clint followed through the move, and flipped backwards to land on his feet again. Bucky grinned and immediately attacked again.

“What do I get if I win?” he asked, panting. Clint dodged his metal arm and aimed a kick at his ribs.

“You can pick the restaurant.”

“But I'm still paying?”

Bucky landed a solid kick to Clint’s ribcage. “Hey, I don’t get paid for being an Avenger,” Clint gasped. “I do that shit out of the goodness of my heart.”

“I’m an ex- KGB assassin that was under Hydra’s control for seventy years, you think I got paid for that?”

\--------------------

“What was the worst kill you ever made?” Clint asked over dinner. Bucky had picked an Italian place he’d found while hiding in Brooklyn. It was quiet and discreet and the breadsticks were _amazing_.

Bucky tore a piece of bread apart. “Too many to pick one,” he mumbled.

“There’s gotta be one,” Clint insisted. “Come on, James. It’ll help you get past the whole mess with Hydra. At least that’s what Bruce said.”

Bucky frowned. Something was wrong with what Clint had just said but he couldn’t figure out what. “I thought Banner wasn’t a psychologist,” he finally replied.

“He likes to tell everyone that, but we all know he’s lying. Come on, spill.” Clint reached over and stole the other half of the breadstick from Bucky.

Bucky leaned back in the booth. “I guess… there was a woman, in Kiev. She was working for a rebel group. She was eight months pregnant.”

Clint nodded and finished off the breadstick. “Any others?”

“Why don’t you tell me yours?” Bucky shot back. “You’ve killed people, right?”

Clint shrugged. “Sure, I can try.” He frowned in thought for a moment, and Bucky took the opportunity to steal a few glances at Clint’s face—which was a very nice face, really. “I guess the former president of Turkey. He had three kids. Two were in the room at the time.”

Bucky twirled his fork in his pasta. “President John F. Kennedy,” he said finally.

“Wait, what? Are you kidding me, _you_ were the grassy knoll guy?” Clint whispered. Bucky nodded. “Holy shit, you have to tell me that story some time.”

“Could tell you now, if you wanted.”

\--------------------

Sparring and dinner became a weekly ritual. Clint would appear in Bucky’s quarters, drag him down to the gym, and let Bucky beat the shit out of him for a few hours before pushing him off and insisting he pick some place to eat. If Bucky couldn’t think of a restaurant, Clint would search for a random bar in the area and they’d sit in a corner booth there for a few hours.

The SHIELD psychologists called it ‘healing’. They said it was good for Bucky to make other friends besides Steve. So Bucky stuck with Clint and decided to just let the healing set in.

“Okay, so this episode is called ‘The Lion and the Rose’ and it’s the big wedding, focus on that,” Clint explained. He and Bucky were curled on the sofa with an enormous bowl of popcorn between them. Clint was introducing him to a new show, _Game of Thrones_ , and Bucky was a little ashamed to admit that he was obsessed. Especially with the blonde dragon lady. For whatever reason, she reminded him of Clint.

“I really hate that blonde piece of shit with the crown,” Bucky commented. Clint grinned.

“Joffrey? No one likes him.”

“Then why are we watching an entire episode about him?”

Clint laughed and passed Bucky the popcorn. “Just trust me, okay, James?”

“I trust you,” Bucky replied without thinking. He paused and blinked.

He didn’t trust anyone, not even Steve. He had a knife on him at all times, even in the shower. He never allowed someone to sneak up behind his back. He had six different alarms in his bedroom alone. Why the hell should he trust Clint?

But he did. And it was terrifying.

\--------------------

“Hey James, when are we gonna have sex?”

Bucky paused in cutting the tomato and stared at the archer next to him.

Clint shrugged. “What?”

“You… what?”

“What?”

Bucky blinked. “I don’t know where this is going.”

“Sex,” Clint said slowly. “As in when two people get in bed—or on a couch, or in a shower, whatever—and fuck like jackrabbits.”

“You. And me. Sex?”

Clint reached over and carefully took the knife from Bucky. “You’ll get this back when you can form complete sentences again. I don’t need to end tonight with a blade in my side because you’re in shock.”

Bucky blinked again but let him take the knife. “You want to have sex?” he finally managed.

“Yep.”

“With me?”

“Yep.”

“Right now?”

“Hell no, I'm starved. Afterwards. Or, like, an hour afterwards, so we don’t get cramps.”

“I’m pretty sure that’s swimming.”

Clint shrugged and slid the cutting board away from Bucky so he could start chopping. “Pretty sure it applies to both. So what do you say?”

“I… I… really?”

“Yep.”

Bucky stared. And blinked. And then slowly reached out and took the cutting board and knife back.

“Okay.”

\--------------------

“Fuck,” Clint groaned.

Bucky grinned and pushed in a little harder. “I’m trying,” he replied.

“Oh, you are such a— _fuck, right there_ —bastard.”

They’d been at it for almost an hour now, and Bucky was pretty sure he’d died and gone to heaven. Clint was warm and tight, stretching so perfectly around his hard cock.They'd kicked off the covers from the heat, and a cool breeze from the AC vent above them made Bucky shiver. He mouthed at Clint's neck, gripping Clint's thighs and spreading his legs farther apart. Each thrust took him deeper, further inside the man underneath him.

“Holy shit, a little faster, right there,” Clint murmured in his ear. He wrapped an arm around Bucky’s neck and pulled him down for a hard, wet kiss. “Christ, James, _yes._ ”

“You know you curse a lot during sex,” Bucky panted.

“Only— _fuck_ —only if it’s really awful sex.”

Bucky laughed breathlessly and thrust in again. “You are such a fucking liar.”

“You can’t— _shit yes—_ make me say otherwise.”

Bucky leaned up on his elbows and arched an eyebrow. “Really?” He pulled out slowly until only the very tip was still inside Clint, grinning at his moan. “You sure I can’t convince you?”

“Fuck, I hate you so much,” Clint growled. Bucky just chuckled. “Fine,” he huffed. “You win. It’s fucking fantastic, you’re the best lay I’ve ever had, now please get your cock back inside my ass and _fuck me._ ”

“Whatever you say,” Bucky said. He reached down, gripped Clint’s hips, and pushed back in with one hard shove. Clint gripped the sheets and arched up, meeting Bucky’s thrusts with his own, until they set a rhythm fast enough to rock the bed.

“Yes, James, fuck, yes, _oh fuck James—_ ” and then Clint was coming against his stomach with a loud shout. Bucky carefully fucked him through his orgasm, pressing kisses to his collarbone and neck while Clint came down.

“There, happy?” Bucky said. He pulled out and slipped the condom off, throwing it in the trash bin beside the bed.

“Fuck,” Clint mumbled cheerfully.

“Gonna take that as a yes.” Bucky grabbed Clint’s hips and rolled them on the bed until he was on his back with Clint on top. “Say, you mind finishing the job?” he asked, nodding down to his still- hard cock.

Clint smirked and kissed his way down Bucky’s chest. “Sergeant,” he murmured, “it would be my genuine pleasure.”

\--------------------

“Hey James, are we dating?”

Bucky choked on his coffee. “Jesus, what?” he managed.

“Are we really gonna go through that whole thing again? Sometimes I don’t think I'm the only one that needs hearing aids.” Clint asked. He leaned over the table and grabbed Bucky’s cheeks with both hands. “ _Daaaatiiiiing_.”

Bucky glared and jerked his head back. “I heard you the first time, asshole. Just… don’t spring that on me, for God’s sake.”

“Subtlety’s not really my style. It’s why Stark and I get along so well. You gonna answer me or keep bullshitting excuses?”

Bucky thought about it for a minute and sipped his coffee. “Sure, why not,” he said finally.

“Wow,” Clint muttered. “Way to show enthusiasm there.”

“What were you expecting, rose petals to fall from the sky? Me to get down on one knee and propose right here?” Bucky snorted. “We go to movies and dinner and have really good sex. Sounds like dating to me.”

“You do know that it’s legal now, right?” Clint asked.

Bucky rolled his eyes and pushed his chair back. He stood and went to refill his coffee cup, bringing a fresh cup back for Clint. “I was brainwashed, not frozen,” he said. “I remember when it became legal. I remember when it became legal to marry. I remember all sorts of things like that.”

Clint looked a little suspicious. “What else do you remember?”

Bucky shrugged. “Bits and pieces. Not as much as I’d like, but enough that I know what happened, what I did.”

“What they _made_ you do,” Clint corrected him. “None of it was your fault.”

“Either way you put it, I still did things, terrible things.” Bucky leaned down and pressed a kiss to Clint’s shoulder. “I’m gonna go take a shower.”

“Want some company?” Clint smirked. Bucky smacked his arm and rolled his eyes.

“Fine. Hurry up, Robin Hood.”

\--------------------

Bucky woke one night in a cold sweat, gasping and unsure as to where he was. The last thing he remembered was being in Oymyakon, with Clint in a little broken- down cottage in the middle of a frozen forest, and then…

But Bucky wasn’t in Russia. He was in America, in Avengers Tower, with Clint warm at his side breathing peacefully. Oymyakon had been four years ago.

“Holy shit,” he breathed.

Clint stirred and sat up next to him. He reached over and grabbed his hearing aids on the bedside table by Bucky. “James? You have a nightmare?” he asked as he put them in.

“Sort of,” Bucky replied. “You knew me before. When I was still the Soldier.”

Clint froze and swore under his breath. Bucky leaned over and traced a scar on Clint’s arm, a scar that he knew he’d given him. “You didn’t tell me,” he whispered.

The room was silent for a long time. “You didn’t remember,” Clint said finally. He looked almost sheepish. “I figured… you know, we might as well start over.”

“We’ve been doing… whatever this is for _eight years_ and you didn’t think you should tell me?”

“I didn’t want to bring up bad memories!” Clint protested.

“Like Lisnivka? When I stabbed you with a rusty fork?”

“They’d just wiped you, you didn’t know who I was!”

“What about Mishmeret?”

Clint glared. “We don’t talk about Mishmeret.”

“Fourteen times, Clint,” Bucky insisted. “Why the hell would you even come near me again after that?”

“You’re different now!” Clint flopped back against the pillows and glowered up at him. “Now you’re Bucky again. You’re James. Not the Soldier. Besides, there were good times, too. Remember Dhowa?”

Bucky leaned back on his elbow. “You mean the hovel we stayed in for three days after we were sent after the same target?”

Clint tangled his fingers in Bucky’s hair and smiled. “Didn’t walk right for a week after that. How about Kusong and the farm hut where we didn’t leave the bed for a week? Or Virmutjoki, and that log cabin we hid in after MI-6 sent out a hit for you?”

“I remember Dumfries and choking you half to death because I thought you _were_ MI- 6.”

“Will you quit focusing on the bad times?” Clint said angrily. He sat up again and pushed at Bucky’s shoulder. “They kept wiping you, over and over. Half the time you didn’t know who I was, and the other half you didn’t know who you were. But we made it work and now it’s good, damn it, it’s great even though you’re a stubborn pigheaded asshole because I love you!”

Bucky blinked.

Clint sighed and fell back again. “James, don’t you do that to me, you had to have known I love you,” he groaned. “I stuck with you for eight years, I’m practically _required_ to love you to keep throwing myself into that.”

Bucky leaned down carefully and pressed a kiss to Clint’s lips. “You really… are you sure?” he asked carefully.

“You’re such an idiot,” Clint replied. “I’ve been sure for a long time.”

Bucky nodded and lay against the pillow, sharing space with Clint and wrapping his metal arm around Clint’s chest. “Okay.”

“Okay? I just told you I fucking love you and all I get is ‘okay’?”

Bucky smiled. “Yeah. Okay.”

Clint rolled his eyes and curled into Bucky’s side. “You’re lucky you’re so damn cute, Barnes,” he mumbled.

\--------------------

“He calls you James.”

Bucky glanced over at Tony, who was lying on the couch with Peter against his chest. They were watching an animated movie that Bucky hadn’t figured out the name of yet but involved talking fish.

“What?” he asked.

“He calls you James,” Tony repeated. “Everyone else calls you Bucky. Natasha calls you Barnes. But he calls you ‘James’.”

“And?”

“Why does he call you James?”

Bucky turned the page of his book. “That is my name, you know.”

“Not even Steve calls you James,” Tony replied. “Literally no one else on the face of this earth calls you James except—”

“Is there a point to all this?” Bucky interrupted.

Tony shrugged and absently ran his fingers through Peter’s hair. Bucky had noticed he tended to do that, to have as much physical contact with his son as possible, and Bucky would never admit it in a thousand years but he actually thought it was kind of sweet. “Just curious, I guess,” he said. “You two together?”

“Sort of. Yeah. It’s complicated.”

“Like how complicated?”

“Like ‘we’ve been off and on dating for the past eight years even though I didn’t ever remember him’ complicated.”

Tony whistled lowly. “He’s a keeper.”

Peter’s head popped up from Tony’s chest. “Who a keeper, Daddy?”

“No one, baby, go back to _Finding Nemo_ ,” Tony replied.

“Kay. I ask Clint later.” Peter burrowed back into Tony’s arms and focused on the screen again.

“Great,” Tony muttered. “That’ll boost Legolas’s ego to a dangerous level.”

“You mean like where yours is?”

“Shut it, remember you live in my Tower.”

“You really are like a possessive child.”

“I raised a toddler entirely on my own for two and a half years, I have earned the right to be possessive and needy,” Tony replied nonchalantly. “In fact, I'm still basically raising a toddler on my own.”

“Don’t let Clint hear that. He’s two steps away from signing his name to the birth certificate,” Bucky said.

“That is a terrifying, horrifying idea and I’ll be sure to lock that paper someplace far, far away.”

“No, Phil, I don’t know where it went,” Clint said suddenly from the doorway. Bucky turned and saw he was on the phone, leaning against the doorframe. “No, Phil, I can’t just _ask_ Tony where the suit went, it’s his goddamn suit, he can put it wherever he wants—”

Tony grinned at Bucky. “They had an early model of the Iron Man suit at SHIELD and I took it out for a joyride,” he explained. “Fury’s probably having a cow and Coulson’s the unlucky recipient.”

“Jesus, Phil, I’m not his _mother_ ,” Clint groaned. “You want to know so bad, you ask him.”

There was murmuring on the other end and Clint rolled his eyes. “He’s a grown- ass man, Coulson, I'm sure he’s responsible enough to remember where he put the suit.”

“I’m not and I don’t,” Tony whispered loudly. Peter giggled against his chest.

Clint shot Tony a glare. “Okay, I have to—yes, Phil, but I gotta—I understand, I just—damn it Phil, _Finding Nemo_ ’s on and I'm gonna go cuddle with my ex- assassin boyfriend, goodbye.”

He snapped the phone shut and threw it on the kitchen table. “Grown- ass man can’t handle a simple tracking device, needs me to figure out where someone else’s damn super suit is,” he muttered. Bucky scooted back on the armchair to allow room for Clint to collapse against him, back to chest.

“How was work, dear?” Tony asked dryly. Clint waited until Peter was looking away and flipped him off.

Bucky kissed Clint’s neck quickly and grinned. “You too,” he whispered.

“Huh?” Clint replied, only half paying attention.

“You too. I love you too.”

Clint froze. Then he turned and smiled, real and full of light. “Okay?”

Bucky returned the smile and felt warmer than he ever had in seventy years. “Yeah.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm on a lot of painkillers right now and have like no inhibitions, so I wrote the Bucky/Clint chapter so I could write a sex scene. Expect to see a LOT more of Bucky/Clint now because this ship is adorable and so fun to write.
> 
> ALSO, I'm working on the new chapter for You Never Forget Your First tonight and should have it up today/tomorrow!! Hooray for painkillers!!!!


	6. Nightmares and Seasonal Bonding

Peter didn’t have nightmares often. Tony considered that a small blessing, because when he did, it was heart wrenching to see.

“Daddy!” Peter sobbed. Tony had gone running when JARVIS had informed him that Peter was currently in the family room, wandering around and crying for him. Now he watched while Peter sat on the floor, curled in a ball, and cried into his stuffed monkey.

“Baby, shh, what’s wrong?” Tony asked. Peter obviously didn’t hear him, and as Tony got closer he saw that the boy didn’t have his hearing aids in. Tony knelt in front of Peter and tapped his head to get his attention.

Peter’s head snapped up and he crawled over and fell into Tony’s arms. “Daddy, Daddy,” he whimpered.

“It’s okay, baby, shh, I’ve got you,” Tony whispered. He knew Peter couldn’t hear him but it made Tony feel better about the whole ordeal. He always felt so helpless when Peter got like this.

It was especially bad tonight. When Peter worked himself up this much, it could take hours to bring him back down to a calm enough point where he could sleep again. Tony resigned himself to a sleepless night and headed for the kitchen with Peter snug in his arms.

Tony got out the milk and tried to put Peter on the counter just long enough for him to pour some in a cup for the boy. As soon as his grip loosened, though, Peter whined and hiccupped, grabbing at the back of Tony’s shirt to curl closer. He wasn’t looking up at Tony, so there was no way to tell Peter what Tony’s intentions were. He sighed and managed to pour the cup single- handedly.

“Do you need a little help?” a voice asked. Tony turned and gave Steve an apologetic smile.

“Sorry he woke you.”

Steve smiled back and helpfully put the lid on Peter’s cup. “He didn’t,” he replied. “I was in the gym late.”

“It’s 2 am,” Tony said. He glanced at the clock to confirm the time and frowned. “What are you doing working out at 2 am?”

Steve shrugged. “Sometimes I can’t sleep, so I go hit a punching bag for a few hours. Why are you two up?”

Peter hiccupped again and wrapped his legs tight around Tony’s ribs. Tony winced and shifted the boy a bit. “Bad dream,” he said. “Gets like this sometimes.”

Peter’s eyes were red and shining with unshed tears, but at least he had stopped sobbing. He sniffled and wiped at the tear tracks and snot on his face. Tony grimaced and grabbed a tissue.

“Here, baby, I’ll get it,” he murmured. Peter watched him with wide eyes while he gently cleaned the boy’s face. “There, that’s better. You want some milk?” Peter nodded and tentatively unlatched one hand from Tony’s shirt to take his sippy cup. “After you’re done with that we’ll get your pacifier and put on the Scooby Doo movie, okay?”

“Mmhmm,” Peter mumbled around the sippy cup. His eyes were already starting to droop, and Tony sighed in relief. Maybe tonight he’d get down early.

“Want me to stay up with you?” Steve asked.

Tony shrugged and kissed Peter’s head. “I don’t wanna keep you up, Cap. Go to bed, we’ll be fine.”

“No, really, I…” Steve scratched his cheek sheepishly. “I’m still not tired, I mean. So I really wouldn’t mind staying with you.”

“Suit yourself. Hope you like teens solving mysteries with a talking dog.” Peter handed him his now- empty cup and Tony grabbed one of Peter’s pacifiers from a drawer. “Come on, baby boy, you can pick the episode and everything,” Tony murmured to him. Peter nodded and nestled his head back on Tony’s shoulder, sucking contentedly on his pacifier.

“Why does he get nightmares?” Steve asked. He settled in one of the armchairs and watched while Tony set the TV up.

“Part of it's the excitement, since tomorrow's Christmas Eve. Doctors said it also has something to do with noises,” Tony explained. “Since he can’t hear everything all the time, and he just recently started wearing the hearing- aids full time, sometimes he hears noises that he’s not used to and they scare him, and he gets nightmares. Like when the toaster pops or a car horn goes off. We’re used to them ‘cause we hear them all the time, but Peter’s still getting used to them so they’re ‘unfamiliar’ or something like that.”

“That one,” Peter whispered. He pointed to the screen when Tony found an episode and nodded when Tony clicked it.

“‘Which Witch is Which’?” Steve grinned. “Really?”

“This is the cheesiest show, I swear to God,” Tony replied. “But Peter loves it.” He glanced down at Peter, who was watching him silently. “Don’t you, baby?” Peter nodded and put his pacifier back in.

Steve sat back and made himself comfortable as the opening song started. He glanced over at father and son and smiled when he saw Tony curl on the couch and adjust Peter in his lap so the boy was right next to his arc reactor. Peter lifted his hand and absently placed his ‘ _I love you’_ sign on the light. “He really likes the reactor,” Steve said.

Tony glanced down and smiled at Peter. “It’s some kind of comfort mechanism, the doctors said it was normal.”

“I think it’s really nice.”

Tony looked up at Steve for a second, and then he grinned and leaned back. “Yeah? I think it’s nice, too.”

\--------------------

“So, why are we going to bed at 11 pm?” Bucky sighed. Clint flopped on the bed next to him and rolled onto his stomach.

“Do you have any idea what tomorrow is?” he asked seriously. Bucky grinned.

“Tuesday?” he replied. Clint rolled his eyes.

“Amazing, James, that was the funniest and most original joke I've ever heard in my life. No one has ever used that joke before nor will they ever use it again. Bravo.”

“Alright, smartass, tomorrow’s Christmas. So what?”

“So we live in the same house as a hyperactive three- year- old that’s spoiled to no end by his super- rich father. Do you really think that kid’s not gonna come bursting in here at 5 am tomorrow morning?”

“I think Nat honestly might kill someone if she’s woken before 7,” Bucky said.

“That’s why she’s going to bed early, too.”

“Okay, fine,” Bucky sighed. He leaned over and kissed Clint. “Can we at least have sex first?”

“Oh, we’re definitely having sex. That’s why I dragged you up here now instead of at midnight when everyone else is going to bed.”

“Excellent.”

\--------------------

Natasha sat cross- legged on her bed, reading a new chapter in the latest crime book she’d found. She heard the shower turn off and Bruce came out a moment later.

“You do know that Peter’s going to be running through the house at 5am trying to wake everyone up, right?” he asked. She nodded and turned a page.

“Tony already warned us,” she replied. “Apparently he made Peter promise that the clock had to be after the 4, but that was as far as he could negotiate.”

“But you hate being up early, Nat.” Bruce slipped on a pair of lounge pants and sat across from her on the bed. She closed her book and smiled.

“For Peter, I can manage for a day.” She leaned over and kissed Bruce quickly. “Come here, you can read me part of that new paper you’ve been working on. Genetics always puts me right to sleep.”

\--------------------

Steve was unwrapping his hands from hitting the punching bag when he heard a noise in the living room. Creeping up quietly, he saw Tony struggling with a set of lights and grinned.

“Need a little help?” he asked. Tony leaned his head back and sighed.

“Why do I feel like that’s the entire basis for our relationship at this point?” he moaned. Steve came up and took the lights from him, detangling the bulbs and wrapping them the rest of the way around the tree.

“What are you doing up so late?” Steve asked as he worked. “I thought you said Peter woke everyone up early.”

“It’s Christmas Eve and Clint somehow managed to convince Peter that _Santa_ did all the Christmas decorating when he visited each house,” Tony explained. He repositioned a few presents and pulled out an old cardboard box stuffed with ornaments. “When I tried to get Peter to help decorate, he just about had a fit, claiming that ‘we were taking Santa’s job away from him’. So now I'm doing it tonight so when Peter wakes up in the morning it’ll look like Santa was here.”

“You’re doing all this for a toddler?” Steve smiled. He unwrapped a few ornaments and helped hang them. Tony shrugged.

“Yeah, well, I never really got the whole ‘Christmas magic’ thing growing up,” he replied. “Dad told me from the beginning that Santa wasn’t real, that you had to earn presents to get them, that reindeer couldn’t fly and magic was fake. Course, I’ve fought at least ten different magical assholes, so Dad was a little off there, but still.”

“You never got to believe in Santa Claus?” Steve frowned. “That’s part of the Christmas spirit.”

“The only Christmas spirit my Dad had was the alcohol he put in the eggnog every night.” Tony fumbled with an ornament and nearly dropped it. He cursed and grabbed a new string to hang it with. “Christmas wasn’t really a big holiday in my house. I just wanted Peter to have the experience I never did.”

“That’s… really sweet, Tony.” Steve smiled to himself and turned away before Tony could see it.

Tony snorted. “Gee, thanks, Cap,” he said sarcastically. “Everything else I’ve done as a parent may be awful, but at least I can give my kid a decent Christmas.”

“That’s not what I meant and you know it.” Steve was prepared to argue more, but Tony shot him a quick grin and Steve forgot what he was going to say next.

“Daddy!” a voice called from down the hallway. Tony cursed and repacked the box.

“Come on, let’s intercept him before he gets here,” he said. Steve put the ornament he was holding down and followed Tony into Peter’s bedroom.

Peter was sitting up in bed, wide- eyed and practically bouncing with energy. Tony flopped on the bed next to him and scooped Peter up. “Yes, baby, what is it?” he asked.

Peter handed Tony a large book and tapped it insistently. “Clint say you gotta read this,” he said.

“Of course he did,” Tony muttered. “Because that man is determined to make me work as hard as physically possible tonight.” Steve smiled and sat in the chair in the other side of the room. “Alright, what do we have here?” Tony flipped to the front cover and grinned. “ _A Visit from St. Nicholas._ I can read you this, I guess. Seems appropriate.”

“Wait.” Peter clambered out of Tony’s lap, grabbed his stuffed monkey, and plopped back in. “Okay. Now go.”

“Of course, your highness.” Tony flipped to the first page and began reading, “’Twas the night before Christmas when all through the house, not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse…”

Steve settled into the chair and watched Tony while he read. Peter steadily grew more and more tired as Tony continued, and only left the comfort of Tony’s lap once to grab his pacifier. By the time Tony had finished, Peter was sucking happily and half- asleep.

“Want one more?” Tony asked. Peter nodded and rubbed at his eyes. “Okay, one more short one.” He reached out and grabbed another book from Peter’s shelf. “ _The Polar Express_ okay?” Peter nodded again and Tony started reading.

Tony was mesmerizing to watch when he was with Peter. Around the team, he was still the carefree, reckless, sarcastic genius that the world knew. Steve had only really seen Tony let him in a few times, and they were only for a couple of rare moments. But when he was with Peter, he was loving and careful, and always made time for his son. It was like seeing two different people inhabit the same body.

Steve rested his cheek on his hand and watched Tony’s lips move, his voice low and soothing. Peter was more asleep than awake by now, but Tony continued to read until Peter was literally drooping in his arms, dead to the world. Then he carefully tucked the boy in, removed his hearing aids, and kissed his forehead. “Merry Christmas, baby boy,” he heard the man whisper. Steve smiled and stood up silently to make his way back into the living room.

\--------------------

“Daddy, wake up, Santa came!”

Tony sighed and blinked awake. Peter was sitting cross- legged on the bed next to him, bouncing happily on the mattress. Tony rolled over onto his side and pulled the boy against his chest.

“I told you he would, baby,” he replied. “Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas.” Peter had put his hearing aids in, and was already half- dressed for the day. He still had his pajama bottoms on, but now he was wearing a knit sweater Clint had found him online that had the Iron Man mask wearing a Santa hat. “We go wake the team?”

“Sure, kiddo.” Tony groaned as he sat up and kissed the top of Peter’s head. “I know, let’s go wake Clint first, that’ll be fun. Give him a taste of his own medicine.”

“Mmkay.” Peter hopped down and raced towards the door, clutching his monkey tight to his chest. He paused in the hallway, jumping up and down. “C’mon, Daddy!”

“I’m comin’, angel.” Tony lifted himself up and out of bed and stumbled over into the hallway. He picked Peter up and slung him over his shoulder.

Clint was sound asleep when Tony creaked the door open. Bucky shot up immediately, poised for attack, but relaxed as soon as he saw who it was. “You keep pulling stunts like that I’m gonna stick a knife in your eye,” he warned. Tony rolled his eyes and set Peter down.

“Go get ‘em,” he told the boy. Peter waddled over and crawled up onto the bed.

“Merry Christmas, Buck,” he whispered. Bucky grinned and ruffled Peter’s hair.

“You don’t have to be quiet, kiddo,” he said. “Clint doesn’t have his hearing aids in, you could put a marching band in here and it wouldn’t wake him.”

“How we get him up?” Peter asked.

“You could tackle him,” Tony suggested. “That seems like it could work.”

“Mmkay.” Peter leaned over Bucky, waited a moment, and then leapt. “Clint, wake up, it’s Christmas!” he shouted. He landed directly on Clint’s stomach and rolled up until he was sitting squarely on his chest.

Clint coughed and wheezed an ‘oof’. He groaned and peeked his eyes open.

“Really? You let him jump on me?” he growled at Bucky. Bucky just shrugged and leaned back against the headboard.

“It was Stark’s idea, blame him,” he said.

Tony smirked. “That’s what you get for ‘Santa decorates the whole house on Christmas Eve’.”

“I’m a good person, I don’t deserve to have your kid jumping on me at—” Clint checked the clock. “4:45 in the morning.”

“Oops,” Tony grinned.

Peter tugged on Clint’s shirt. “Put your aids in, we gotta wake the team,” he insisted. “C’mon, c’mon!”

“Peter, say please,” Tony reminded.

Peter nodded and turned back to Clint. “Pwease c’mon?”

“Yeah, yeah, gimme a sec. Go wake Cap, we’ll be right there.” Peter nodded and jumped down from the bed again. As he was running out, Tony glanced back and saw Clint press a quick kiss to Bucky’s lips.

“Merry Christmas, jerk,” he murmured. Bucky grinned.

“Merry Christmas, dork,” he replied. Tony smiled and followed his son.

Peter was already jumping outside of Steve’s door by the time Tony arrived. Tony almost felt bad about waking Steve up—he had stayed up with Tony until 2 am finishing the decorations for the living room. But Steve had told him that he didn’t mind that Peter wanted to wake him up.

Tony opened the door for the boy and watched while he ran in and jumped on the bed. Steve was lying on his side, still asleep. Peter poked at Steve’s cheek.

“Cap, c’mon, wake up,” he whined. Steve stayed asleep, so Peter began shaking his arm. “Cap! Cap! Cap!”

When Peter turned to look back at Tony with a distressed noise, Tony saw Steve peek an eye open and smile. Tony grinned behind his hand.

“I don’t know what to tell you, baby,” he managed to tell Peter. “I guess Cap’s really tired.”

“But he gotta get up!” Peter persisted. He turned back, and Steve quickly closed his eyes again. “ _Caaap.”_

Bucky snorted from the hallway. “He pulling that ‘fake sleep’ thing?” he asked quietly. Tony nodded. “He is such a child,” Bucky shook his head.

“Cap, Cap, Cap,” Peter was starting to repeat it like a mantra. Steve wasn’t budging.

When Peter turned back to Tony, Steve peeked again and sat up suddenly, tossing Peter gently to the other side of the bed and tickling him. Peter burst into laughter, wriggling around in an attempt to get away from the man.

“Cap! Cap, no!”

“This is what you get for poking me,” Steve replied calmly. Peter giggled manically and managed to sit up.

“I be good, I promise!” he gasped. Steve scooped him up and put him back on the ground. “I be good,” he said again. Tony smiled.

“That’ll teach you, huh?” he said. Peter nodded and tugged on Steve’s pant leg.

“Pwesents,” he insisted. Steve sat up and tugged a pair of socks on.

“Let’s go see what Santa left you, then,” he replied.

Bruce and Natasha were already in the kitchen with Clint by the time the rest of them arrived. Peter ran straight towards the living room and gasped when he saw the tree and decorations.

“Daddy, Santa came,” Peter whispered. He turned and beamed at the rest of the team. “Santa came!” Tony knelt beside him and kissed Peter’s cheek.

“Merry Christmas, Peter,” he replied. Peter turned and threw his arms around Tony’s neck.

“Merry Christmas, Daddy!”

\--------------------

Steve stood over the oven and glanced in the living room. Peter was curled in Tony’s lap on the floor, playing with his new Iron Man plush that ‘Santa’ had brought him. The rest of the team was watching a _Charlie Brown_ Christmas episode.

Natasha checked the ham in the oven and leaned against the counter. “This feels oddly domestic,” she commented.

“There’s nothing odd about it,” Steve replied. “We’re long past due a good family dinner. Besides, it would make Peter happy.”

“He’s already happy. He got all new toys, new clothes, and a whole box set of Bob the Builder.”

“He deserves to be spoiled a bit.”

Natasha smirked over at him. “You were the one that got him the Iron Man plush, weren’t you?”

Steve blushed and stared down at the pot in front of him. “Don’t know what you’re talking about,” he mumbled.

Natasha leaned over and looked Steve in the eye. “You have feelings for Tony, don’t you?”

Steve blushed harder. “What… what makes you think that?” he asked.

“You’re not really being subtle about it right now.”

Steve glanced over quickly to make sure no one else was listening. “Maybe. A slight… crush, I guess. Sort of. I don’t know how I feel.”

“Wow. That sounds decisive,” Natasha snorted.

“It’s just…” Steve sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. “Tony’s so good with Peter, he’s so sweet and gentle, it’s like watching a different person. And even when he’s not with Peter, he’s a good man, and he works hard and he’s dedicated, and…” he trailed off when he saw Natasha smirking at him. “I’ve got it bad, don’t I?”

“So bad,” she agreed. She took the ham out of the oven and began cutting it efficiently. “You probably day dream about cuddling with him at night.”

Steve blushed again and stirred the potatoes. “At least I don’t giggle like a little girl whenever Bruce comes up with a new experiment.”

“I am unashamed of that.”

Peter hopped out of Tony’s lap once the credits started rolling. He ran into the kitchen, dragging the Iron Man plush behind him. “Cap, I have some apple?” he asked, bouncing on the balls of his feet.

Steve smiled, rubbed Peter’s hair, and grabbed an apple from the fruit bowl. “Sure you can.” He cut it quickly and put it in a bowl. Peter balanced it carefully in his hands and ran back into the kitchen.

“So bad,” Natasha repeated. Steve just smiled.


	7. Media Frenzy

Tony grabbed Peter as he ran past and scooped him over his shoulder. Peter squealed in laughter and lightly kicked his legs against Tony’s chest.

“You got me, Daddy!”

Tony bounced him carefully and readjusted him in his arms. “I got you,” he agreed with a smile. “You’re mine now, baby.”

“No!” Peter squirmed in Tony’s arms and giggled into his shoulder.

“Yes you are, you’re my prisoner.” Tony collapsed on the bench next to Steve and hefted Peter into his lap. “And you have to serve your full sentence. You have to sit here and eat _all_ your carrots.”

Peter gasped up at him. “ _All_ them?”

Tony nodded and slid the container towards them. “All five carrots. Then you’re free to go.”

Peter immediately grabbed a carrot and bit down into it with a loud _crunch._ Tony grinned over at Steve.

“Works every time,” he whispered. Steve smiled and stole one of the carrots. “Hey, that’s not fair, you can’t help him!”

Peter beamed up at Steve. “Thank you, Cap.”

“You’re very welcome, kiddo,” Steve replied. Tony glared at him and crossed his arms over Peter’s chest.

“That’s it, no more help or I'm extending your sentence to include the cherry tomatoes I brought.”

“No!” Peter bit into his carrot again and tucked the container against his chest. “I be good,” he insisted.

Tony kissed his cheek and took a bite from his carrot. From the corner of his eye, he saw a man peeking out from behind a van. He was far enough away that Tony couldn’t make out his face, but he was willing to bet half his fortune that the small black object in the man’s hand was a camera. He sighed and stood up. Steve followed his gaze in confusion while Tony picked up the container and the rest of the lunch box and headed for the car.

“Who is that?” he asked as they walked.

“Paparazzi, probably,” Tony replied. “Looking to get pictures. I try to keep Peter away from them as much as possible.”

He wished they would just leave him alone when he was with his son. He didn’t mind “swimming with the sharks” (as Natasha put it) when he was alone or with the other Avengers, but his son didn’t like people looking at him. Tony just hoped that the man hadn’t gotten any pictures.

Apparently no one cared about what Tony wanted, because while he was sitting on the couch with Peter that night the evening news came on with a brand new breaking story.

 ** _“Billionaire and inventor Tony Stark was seen with his son Peter today,”_** a perky blonde woman announced. Tony groaned and reached for the remote, but Peter was already watching. **_“Pictures show them at a local park, playing on the swing set. A local source has reported that the young heir, now three years old, was wearing his hearing aids again in public, leading to more speculation as to the boy’s future competency as CEO of StarkIndustries.”_**

Tony finally grabbed the remote and flipped the channel, cursing under his breath. He felt Peter shift in his lap and glanced down.

Peter was looking up at him with wide, sad eyes. Without a word he crawled off Tony’s lap, took his hearing aids out and put them on the side table, and then crawled back into his lap and curled into his chest. Tony considered putting up an argument, insisting he wear his aids, but right now all he could do was wrap his arms around his son and lean back with him silently.

Clint came in half an hour later, munching from a bag of popcorn. He stopped when he saw what Tony had turned on the TV.

“ _Love Actually?_ What happened?” he asked. Tony looked over the back of the couch and pointed down to Peter.

“News media put up pictures of Peter. Talked about how incompetent he'd be as CEO of the company. Same shit.”

Clint was silent for a long moment. Finally, he put the bag of popcorn down and headed for the elevator. “Was it Fox News?” he growled as he passed.

“You’re not going to kill them,” Tony replied. Clint just grabbed his bow and pressed the elevator button. “Or maybe you are. JARVIS, where’s Barnes?”

“On his way up in the elevator, sir,” JARVIS replied.

“Let him know his boy toy’s about to mass murder several reporters.”

The elevator dinged and Bucky immediately grabbed Clint’s arm. He glanced over at Tony. “Does the kid have his hearing aids in?” When Tony shook his head, Bucky tugged Clint along towards the bedrooms. “Come on, you, let’s go have angry sex and work it out of your system. You can’t kill an entire team of reporters.”

“You fucking watch me, James, I swear to God…” Clint pulled back, but Bucky just grabbed his shoulders and pushed him out of the living room and into the hallway.

“Whatever you say, dear. Let’s go fuck it out first.”

Tony grimaced. “Could’ve gone my whole life without that mental image, thanks,” he called.

Peter hadn’t moved once, not even to look up at Clint or Bucky. He was curled in the exact same position as before, clutching Tony’s shirt with one hand and the stuffed Iron Man with the other. Tony gently raked his fingers through Peter’s hair until the boy looked up at him.

 _‘Are you hungry?’_ Tony signed. Peter shook his head and made the _‘no’_ sign quickly. Tony just nodded and pulled the boy in again.

After about an hour of movies in silence, Tony heard Peter sniffle. “Why… don’ they like me?” Peter asked in a shaky whisper. Tony looked down and saw his son was on the verge of tears. Tony’s heart broke. He grabbed a tissue and kissed the boy’s head repeatedly as he wiped away the tears.

 _‘It’s okay, baby, it’s okay,’_ he signed soothingly. _‘You’re okay, they don’t matter, we love you, baby.’_

Peter just sniffed again and curled tighter into Tony’s arms.

\--------------------

Bucky must have texted Steve, because he was the next to show up around Tony the next day. The rest of the team had been out, either on missions or working with SHIELD. Tony had called Fury and plainly told him that if he ever wanted Tony to build for him again he wouldn’t expect him at SHIELD headquarters for at least the next three days. Apparently Fury had been watching the news, too, because he barely put up a fight.

Peter still didn’t have his hearing aids in, but Tony had expected that. He’d tried to goad the boy into wearing them this morning— _‘just for a few hours, I promise’_ —and Peter had immediately burst into tears. Tony decided not to push it.

“Tony, I heard what happened,” Steve started. Tony put the tablet he’d been working on down and glanced up at the soldier. “Is he…” Steve nodded down at Peter. “Is he okay?”

Tony shrugged. “As well as can be expected. We’re back to not wearing the aids again, so that should be loads of fun.”

Steve sat down in the chair across from them. “I’m sorry,” he said sincerely. “I shouldn’t have suggested you take Peter to the park that day—”

“He had fun,” Tony interrupted. “If you hadn’t suggested it, he might’ve never left this tower. He needed to get out for a while.”

“But it ended like this, and now Peter won’t wear his hearing aids.”

Tony shrugged again. “That’ll pass, it’ll just take a while. And pretty soon some other news story’ll come out that blows this one out of the water.”

Steve leaned back, looking pensive. “What sort of story?” he asked.

“Politics, the Democrats, some celebrity comes out as gay.” Tony grabbed his tablet again and opened up the program he’d been working on. “Something like that. Trust me, Cap, this sucks but it’s nothing new.”

Peter was playing with the Iron Man plush again, bouncing it over the cushions and tossing it in the air to make him ‘fly’. Steve caught the toy when Peter threw it too far and handed it back to him. “How long do you think it’ll take for them to get a new story?”

“Could be a couple of days. Depends on who decides to do something stupid.”

“Right.” Steve stood and headed for the elevator. “What floor does Pepper work on again?”

Tony frowned in confusion. “Forty second. Something wrong, Steve?”

Steve waved him off and pressed the button. “Nothing at all. I’ll see you later.” With that, he was gone again.

 _Well. That was odd_ , Tony thought. Before he could analyze it further, though, Peter was tugging at his shirt and signing for food.

\--------------------

“I’d like to organize a press conference, Ms. Potts,” Steve announced. Pepper glanced up at him and arched an eyebrow.

“First off, Steve, you really can call me Pepper,” she said. Steve flushed and nodded. “And secondly, what exactly is the press conference going to be about?”

“I want to talk to some news reporters on how they’ve been treating Peter,” he replied. “It’s not right, what they’re doing to that boy.”

“You can’t stop them, Steve, it’s their First Amendment right. No matter how sleazy it is, they aren’t breaking any laws.”

Steve sat in one of the armchairs in front of her desk. “I know that,” he sighed. “But I have to do _something_. Peter’s miserable and won’t wear his hearing aids again and Tony’s upset now—”

“So Natasha was right,” Pepper interrupted. Steve blushed again and Pepper smiled and patted his hand. “Sorry. Go on.”

“I just… I want to help. And I know a way to help, but I need reporters. Lots of reporters.”

Pepper nodded and picked up her phone. “I’ll make some calls, get one organized for this afternoon. You’d better know what you’re doing, Captain.”

Pepper was nothing if not superb at her job. By 2 pm sharp there were thirty reporters in the conference room, chatting quietly amongst themselves. Steve straightened his uniform and bit his lower lip.

“You sure you want to do this?” Bucky asked him. He’d offered to come along in support, and Steve was glad he was there right now.

Steve nodded. “It’s been a long time coming, and this way they’ll have something to focus on other than Peter.” With that, he stepped out on the stage.

He was wearing his Captain America uniform, aside from the cowl. Several cameras flashed as he stepped up to the podium, and Steve hid a grin. He knew the uniform would grab their attention.

“Good afternoon,” he began. A few more cameras flashed. “I am Captain America, and I have an announcement I’d like to make to you all today.”

A blonde reporter in the front raised her hand. Steve recognized her as one of the women that had reported on Peter’s hearing aids and hid his grimace. “Sir, are you planning to reveal your real name for us today?” she asked.

Steve shook his head. “I’m not wearing the mask because I want everyone to know that I’m a person, just like you. But you’ve seen my face before, so it’s nothing new. You don’t need my name for this announcement, anyways.”

Steve looked over at Bucky, leaning against a doorframe on the other side of the room, and nodded. Bucky nodded back and flashed a thumbs- up. Steve took a quick breath and leaned into the microphone.

“I’m Captain America, and I’m bisexual.”

\--------------------

Tony blinked. And blinked again. He opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out.

From the couch, Clint was staring at the TV. “Did he just…” he stammered, pointing to the television and glancing over at Tony. “Did he really…?”

“Apparently,” Natasha said. She and Bruce were sitting on the loveseat, watching the live report from the StarkIndustries conference room. Where Steve had just come out of the closet.

“Is he really, though?” Clint asked. “Like, is this… real?”

“Oh, it’s definitely real,” Sam said. He had unofficially moved in after they had found Bucky and re-established him into society. “Steve’s, like, one hundred percent bi. He actually prefers guys.”

“How do you know this?” Bruce asked him. Sam shrugged.

“It’s pretty obvious, when you think about it.”

Bruce frowned and leaned back. After a moment he shrugged and raised his eyebrows. “Actually, yeah, it is.”

Clint’s brow furrowed in thought, too. “Huh.” He grinned at Tony. “Wonder if anyone from the 40s was actually straight.”

Tony ignored him and stared at the screen again. The reporters were going crazy, pushing microphones in his face and shouting questions at him. Steve waved a hand and waited until the crowd settled down before he spoke again.

 ** _“I’ll take a few questions now, as long as you remain respectful,”_** he said. One man raised his hand and Steve nodded.

**_“Sir, with all due respect, aren’t you worried how this will affect Captain America’s image?”_ **

Steve shook his head. **_“This doesn’t change anything. I’m still Captain America, I’m still fighting for the American people and their right to be free. My personal sexual orientation won’t affect that.”_**

 ** _“Then why come out? Why now?”_** the man asked.

Steve smiled and leaned forward. **_“Growing up, I lived in a world where you were thrown in prison for being gay. I never had a figure to look up to, a person to relate to while I was figuring out who I was. I want kids in this century to know they’re not alone. That anyone can be like this, and it’s okay.”_**

Tony smiled to himself and carded his fingers through Peter’s hair. It was beautiful, that Steve was doing this, but Tony knew there was another reason, too.

_He did this for Peter. For my son._

The media completely forgot about Peter and his hearing aids. They were playing the breaking news about Captain America on repeat 24/7, discussing the benefits and disadvantages. Bill O’Reilly had a segment about it where he criticized his ‘poor decision’ to come out. Jon Stewart had a segment immediately afterwards where he called Captain America “the greatest American hero to ever make Bill O’Reilly pee his pants”.

“You didn’t have to do that, you know,” Tony told him one night as they watched the evening news. Peter had had a nightmare and was curled on Tony’s lap, dozing quietly as he sucked on his pacifier. Steve smiled over at the boy and changed the channel to a late- night cartoon.

“I know,” he replied softly.

Tony nodded and sipped his coffee. “Just… letting you know. But… thank you, anyways.”

\--------------------

After a few weeks, the Captain America bisexuality craze finally started to wind down. Apparently Steve had inspired several other famous figures to come out as bisexual, as well, and a whole movement had been started about acceptance, no matter what sexual orientation you were. Someone asked Tony if he was planning to come out.

“I’ve been out for years,” Tony replied. “Everyone’s seen my history, they know I tend not to limit myself.”

“So you’re admitting that you’re bisexual?” the reporter had pressed.

“I don’t even think I’d limit myself to just two genders.” Tony shrugged. “The world’s a beautiful place with beautiful people, and not all of them are defined in black and white.”

So Tony came out as pansexual (he didn’t even know there was a word for it until now) and that ran as headlines for a few days. It wasn’t nearly as big as Steve’s reveal, but it helped keep the public motivation up.

Unfortunately, now that Tony was back in the news, some reporters tried to bring Peter back into the picture. They couldn’t seem to leave it alone, honestly.

“It’s ridiculous,” Clint grunted as he let an arrow fly. They were in the middle of Broadway, battling a hoard of mutant gorilla- like creatures. “Why can’t they just leave him alone?”

“Because they’re heartless, soul- sucking demons sent to make my life hell on earth,” Tony replied. He fired two quick blasts and took down a few more creatures before they could attack Natasha.

“Focus on the mission,” Steve reminded them. They shut up about it until afterwards, when they were cleaning up and tending to their wounds.

A young man came rushing forward as Tony was wiping down the suit. A camera was pushed in Tony’s face and the man pulled out a microphone. “Mr. Stark, do you have anything to say about your son’s disability?” he started.

“Subtle, kid, nice job.” Tony rolled his eyes and threw the rag in the nearest van. “And no comment.”

“Not one? What about the recent claims that it was your irresponsible ways that caused his deafness?”

Steve started forward and Natasha grabbed his arm. “Don’t,” she whispered. “Don’t make it worse.”

“That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard,” Steve argued.

“I know that, but if you go after him they’ll use it against you.”

Tony turned away from the reporter. “No comment,” he repeated. The reporter tailed him, gesturing to his cameraman to follow.

Steve was ready to break away from Natasha to go shove that microphone down the man’s throat. Before he could, though, Clint stepped forward into the reporter’s line of sight and grabbed Bucky’s hand.

“Man, I’m sure glad my husband is safe,” he said in a fake- relieved voice, loudly enough for the man to hear. With that, he pulled Bucky forward, wrapped an arm around his neck, and pulled him down for a kiss.

The reporter immediately abandoned Tony and gaped at the pair in front of him. When Clint and Bucky pulled apart, he went after them, shouting questions that Steve didn’t hear. Clint just shrugged and pulled Bucky into a SHIELD van.

“Okay, bye, see you later,” he called. “If we don’t hurry we’re gonna miss team movie night and Peter might honestly kill us.”

Tony grinned and flipped the faceplate down. “Anyone need a ride?” he asked Steve and Natasha.

Natasha pushed away and hopped into a SHIELD van with Bruce. “Take the Cap,” she said. With that, the vans pulled away. Tony grabbed Steve and lifted off into the air before the reporter could refocus on them.

Steve blinked against the wind and smiled at the mask. “Do you really think they’re married?” he shouted.

He heard Tony laugh over the comm. “If anyone were to get secretly married, it would be those two.”

“It was nice of them to do that. Take the focus off Peter again.”

Tony glanced over at him. “Guess they learned from the best, huh?”

Steve was really glad in that moment that the cowl hid his blush. “Don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Tony landed and deposited Steve on the launch pad. The pad shifted and arms reached out to take the suit off him as he followed Steve inside. “Sure you don’t,” he grinned. “Sweet, innocent Captain America, doing his civil duty.”

Peter ran into the room before Steve could reply. “Daddy, I saw you on TV!” he shouted. Tony picked him up and whirled him around quickly.

“Yeah? Did I do good?” he asked. Peter nodded. He was wearing his hearing aids again for a few hours at a time. Steve considered it a small blessing he’d agreed to wear them at all.

“Yeah, you punched the monsters an’ they went _boom!”_ Peter threw his hands up and giggled. “An’ I saw Clint an’ Buck kissing an’ it was gross.”

“It sure was,” Tony agreed.

“Hey!” Clint protested. He stepped out of the elevator with Bucky in tow and collapsed on the couch. “Our kissing is adorable, thank you.”

“Nu- uh,” Peter shook his head. “Kissing’s icky.”

“Are you really married?” Steve cut in before Clint could start an argument.

Bucky pulled out a thin chain with a gold ring dangling on the end. “Three months,” he said.

Clint pulled his silver ring out on its chain. Steve noticed his had Bucky’s old dog tags on it, as well. “This way we get more benefits from SHIELD, like better life insurance and combined dental. Plus I get to brag that I'm a trophy husband.”

Bucky rolled his eyes and turned the TV on. “You’re far more proud of that than you should be.”

“Why didn’t you tell anyone?” Tony asked.

Clint shrugged. “No one asked.”

“That’s a terrible excuse.” Tony juggled Peter while he sat down in the armchair and crossed his legs. Peter grabbed his Iron Man toy off the ground and began tossing it in the air again.

Steve watched the rest of the team and smiled. He sat in the armchair next to Tony’s and tossed the Iron Man toy back and forth with Peter, listening while Clint and Bucky explained the story—apparently it had just been a spur of the moment decision, and that definitely sounded like something they would do. Peter smiled shyly at Steve when he caught the plush and Steve grinned back, deciding he was in this for the long run now. His team was finally a family— his family—and he wasn’t about to let it go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay! Bisexual Steve Rogers!
> 
> The next chapter of You Never Forget Your First should be out by the end of the week, so keep an eye out for that. And the next chapter for this fic might just be another Bucky/Clint one (to explain how they got married) with some Natasha/Bruce in there. (And then we get to the real Stony, so get ready for that).


	8. Mommy Dearest

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ANGST WARNING

“Daddy, how come I don’t gotta mommy?”

Tony froze where he was sitting on the couch with Peter on his lap. His son was looking up at him with wide, curious eyes.

“Daddy?” he asked again. “Daddy, didja hear me?”

Tony swallowed and kissed the boy’s head. “I heard you, baby,” he replied. “Why do you ask that?” Diversion was the best method.

Peter shrugged and plucked at his Iron Man stuffed toy. “’Cause all the boys an’ girls at the playground got a mommy and a daddy,” he replied. “’Cept for Billy, ‘cause he’s got two mommies. Oh, an' Jessica got two daddies. Can I have two daddies?”

Tony wrapped an arm around Peter and hauled him closer to his chest. “Baby, having another parent… it’s not something you can just ask for,” he explained. “You know mommies and daddies love each other, right?” Peter nodded and Tony continued, “well, they love each other and that’s why they’re married and have kids. I’d have to love someone to marry them.”

Peter frowned in confusion. “How come you don’t love no one?”

Tony shrugged. “I love you, and that’s enough for me.”

“Does that mean we gonna get married?”

Tony grinned and kissed Peter’s forehead. “No, baby, it’s a different kind of love for people to marry. Mommies and daddies love each other differently than they love their babies.”

“So you don’t love anyone else in the whole world?” Peter asked. He chewed on the arm of his stuffed toy.

“Well…” Tony leaned back and thought. “I love Aunt Pep like a sister, and I love Rhodey like a brother.”

“Even though they not your sister or brother?”

“That’s right.”

“Do you love the team?”

“I… I guess so, yeah.”

“Can I love the team?”

“What’s this about loving the team?” Clint asked from the doorway. Peter jumped up and bounced on the couch.

“Clint, Clint! I'm gonna love the team!”

“I’m so glad to hear that, Peter. What brought this conversation on?” Clint sat on the loveseat and grabbed his tablet.

“I asked Daddy how come I don’t got a mommy.”

Clint sputtered and covered his mouth to hide his laugh. Tony flipped him off when Peter wasn’t looking.

Peter turned back to Tony and settled his hands on his father’s shoulders. “So can I have a mommy or second daddy?” he asked.

“I… I don’t know, baby, maybe some day,” he finally replied.

Peter pouted and fell back in Tony’s lap. “Can’t you pick someone from the team an’ marry ‘em?”

Clint choked again. “Yeah, Tony, just pick someone from the team,” he managed in between fits of laughter. “That’s how I did it.”

Peter beamed. “Yeah! Clint an’ Buck are married an’ they’re on the team. You can marry someone, too!”

Tony glared at Clint and wrapped Peter in his arms. “It doesn’t work like that, Peter,” he replied. “Clint and Bucky love each other, remember?”

“But you said you loved the whole team,” Peter insisted.

“Well, yes, but in a different way. Not in a marriage kind of way.”

“But Clint an’ Buck don’t act any diff’rent ‘round each other. They act like the rest of the team.”

“Well…” Tony searched desperately for another argument. “Clint and Bucky kiss, right?” Peter nodded and made a face. “Well, I’m not kissing anyone on the team, so that’s how it’s different.”

“D’you wanna kiss someone on the team?”

Clint was biting his lips now to keep from laughing. “I can think of something star-spangled that your dad would like to kiss,” he muttered. Tony glared at him again and flipped him off.

“Never mind all that, baby,” Tony said instead. “Let’s watch a movie, okay?” Peter nodded and ran over to grab Tony’s tablet to pick a movie.

“Wanna watch Power Rangers,” he told Tony seriously.

Tony smiled and pulled the movie up. “Whatever you want, baby boy.”

The truth was, Tony hadn’t even thought about marriage. He had Peter, and that was enough. He’d had Pepper, and messed that up, and Peter’s mother was still a mess in prison somewhere. His record proved that Tony and relationships just didn’t go together.

Even if he did sometimes look at Steve and imagine waking up next to him and pushing back his ruffled blonde hair and kissing his smile away gently and holding him every night…

Still. Tony had a good thing as a single father. Adding someone into that could ruin it. Peter was always going to be his first priority, above all else.

\--------------------

“Daddy. Daddy. Daddy. Daddy.”

Tony groaned and rolled onto his stomach. Peter had had a rough time last night, and Tony hadn’t gotten to sleep until well after 4. He glanced at the clock and groaned again.

“Baby, why are you up at 6:30?” he mumbled. Peter shook his arm again.

“Wake up, Daddy,” he insisted. Tony sat up on his elbow and rubbed his eyes. “You gotta come get breakfast wit’ me an’ Cap.”

“Huh?” Tony really wasn’t functioning well right now.

“Breakfast,” Peter repeated.

“Why are we getting breakfast at 6:30 in the morning?”

Peter shifted on his feet and looked a little guilty. “I had a bad dream an’ JARVIS woke Cap ‘stead of you so Cap said he’d make breakfast but you need it, too.”

“I need sleep more,” Tony muttered. But he stumbled to his feet and followed Peter out anyways.

Steve looked up in surprise when Tony collapsed in a seat. “Why are you up?” he asked. “I told JARVIS I would handle it.”

“Peter was convinced I need breakfast,” Tony replied. He grabbed at the coffee Steve handed him and inhaled half the cup in one gulp.

“Daddies need to eat,” Peter informed them seriously. Steve grinned and ruffled his hair.

“True, but daddies need sleep, too. And your daddy looks very, very sleepy right now.”

“Here, here,” Tony saluted the other man with his cup. “Don’t worry, though. I’ll take a nap with Peter today.”

Peter shook his head as he climbed into his seat. “Don’ wanna nap.”

“Too bad. If I have to be awake now, you have to go to sleep.”

“But Daddy!”

“But nothing.”

Steve smiled and handed each of them a plate. “Here, eat your pancakes,” he told them.

Peter dug in and chewed happily. “Daddy, you should just marry Cap so he can cook for us,” he mumbled around his food.

Tony froze and rubbed his temples. This was _so_ not the conversation he wanted to have right now with his three-year-old. He glanced over at the supersoldier to make sure that little comment hadn’t affected him too much.

Steve was just standing in front of the stove, smiling strangely while he worked. Tony frowned and sipped his coffee. He could’ve read into that more if he were more awake.

“Sir, you are being mentioned on the morning new shows,” JARVIS interrupted. “It appears to be urgent.” Tony grabbed a tablet and the AI pulled up several shows side- by- side.

**_“…has been confirmed that Janice Cord, daughter of StarkIndustries rival businessman Drexel Cord, is apparently the mother of Tony Stark’s son.”_ **

**_“A former self-described ‘wild girl’, Janice was released from prison on parole early just two days ago after being arrested for drugs and a DUI over three years ago. Ms. Cord has offered to speak with us about her son and has already claimed she will begin fighting Tony Stark for custodial rights—”_ **

**_“Here’s the thing: in most custodial cases, the mother wins. So now Tony Stark has to deal with the very real possibility he could lose his son over all this—”_ **

Tony couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe. This woman— _Janice—_ was out and already claiming that she had parental rights to _his_ son. He was torn between locking Peter away for the next few years and gearing up the suit to go teach this woman a lesson or two about messing with his family. He felt his chest clench uncomfortably, and his breathing became more labored as he continued to read.

“Tony? Are you alright?” Steve asked. Tony jerked up and saw the other man watching him carefully. He managed to nod and smile weakly.

“You saw that? You heard what they said?” he asked, keeping the smile in place for Peter’s sake. Steve nodded and Tony continued, “Then you know I'm not alright. She wants to take my son, Steve.”

“The courts will never let her. She was arrested for drug use while she was still pregnant, Tony. No judge would give her rights after that.” Thank God Peter didn’t have his hearing aids in yet.

“That doesn’t matter,” Tony sighed. He rubbed his forehead and tossed the tablet down. “This means court, and hearings and trials, and Peter will have to _meet_ this woman and it’s bad enough he’s already asking why he doesn’t have a mom, now he’s going to know why he has one but she isn’t living with us and why she’s been away, and—”

“Tony, breathe,” Steve soothed.

Tony followed Steve’s breath until he was calm again. He could do this. He was a safe and capable parent. He was good for Peter.

“I'm not losing him,” he reaffirmed. “I’ll walk through hell if that’s what it takes.”

Steve just nodded and put another pancake on his plate. “How can I help?”

\--------------------

Janice was as beautiful as ever. She appeared in the courthouse surrounded by lawyers, though Tony had no idea how she paid for them. Her father had cut her off over six years ago, after word of her drug problem had spread through the news and smeared his company’s name. Janice had done just about anything after that to get money—including impregnating herself with Tony to sue him.

She clacked her way across the courtroom now, brushing her hair back elegantly. Tony sat on the other side of the room with his own lawyers while Peter sat in the bench behind him with Steve and the rest of the team.

Janice approached them with a smirk for Tony and a bright wave for Peter. “Darling, come here and let me see you,” she crooned.

Peter shifted in his seat nervously. Tony had explained to him that yes, this woman was technically his mommy, and no, she wouldn’t come live with them after this was all done, and no, she wasn’t a very nice person at all. That combined with Peter’s nervous disposition towards any stranger was enough to keep him firmly in his seat until Tony leaned back and goaded him forward.

“Just for a second, baby, just let her see you,” he murmured quietly. Peter nodded and inched towards her carefully.

Janice knelt and inspected him carefully. After a moment she beamed and kissed his cheek. “You are such a sweet, beautiful boy,” she told him. “I knew you would be so beautiful, I always knew it.”

Tony rolled his eyes. “You didn’t even know your own name with all the drugs you were on,” he muttered. Fortunately, Peter didn’t hear him.

“Thank you,” Peter replied nervously. He twisted the Iron Man stuffed toy in his hands and chewed on his lip. “I’m Peter,” he said finally.

Janice pinched his cheek. “I know who you are, angel dear,” she laughed. “Do you know who I am?”

“Daddy said… you’re my mommy,” Peter said quietly.

“That’s right, angel. Would you like to come live with me?”

Tony shot forward before Peter could respond. “You were warned about talking about that,” he told her in a low voice. “You haven’t even been cleared as a competent parent.”

Janice glared at him and pushed his shoulder back. “I’m his _mother_ ,” she said confidently. “Of course I'm competent.”

Tony wanted to throw a chair at her. “Peter, go back and sit with Cap,” he said. Peter nodded and raced back to wrap around Steve’s leg. “You were on drugs while you were pregnant,” he growled when Peter was out of earshot. “You did _nothing_ to help that boy.”

“I’ve changed, Tony,” Janice replied coolly. “And he’s my son, too.”

“You’re not getting him.”

“We’ll see about that.”

With that, she turned and walked haughtily towards her own table.

“Bitch,” Tony heard Clint mumble under his breath. He turned in his chair and kissed Peter’s head quickly.

“Do you mind keeping an eye on Peter while I sort this out?” he asked Steve.

“Of course I don’t mind,” Steve replied.

The judge arrived soon after, and the next few hours were pure hell for Tony. Janice stood up and put on her best doe eyes, and told the court how she’d ‘made a mistake’ and had ‘learned from her experiences’. The courtroom seemed to eat it up. Tony saw several people wipe at their eyes when Janice went on about wanting ‘to make a better life for herself and to include her baby boy in it’.

It took every ounce of Tony’s self control not to gag at that.

Afterwards, it was Tony’s turn to stand up and explain his side. Steve took Peter out to get lunch while Tony spoke, just in case things got out of hand.

“She used that boy to try and get money from me before, what’s stopping her from doing it now?” Tony finished after his speech.

Janice jumped up and glared at him pointedly. “I never used Peter for money. I loved him and you took him away!” she accused.

“You tried to sue me for millions, claiming I’d forcefully impregnated you,” he replied. “And I didn’t take him away, you did that yourself when you were arrested.”

“You planted those drugs in my system!”

Tony snorted. “As if that claim wasn’t wild enough, you were arrested for driving drunk. No one planted the alcohol in you.”

The judge banged his gavel and called for order. Tony sat down and Clint reached out to discreetly fist-bump him.

“I’ve made my decision,” the judge announced. “Ms. Cord is allowed a session to meet with Peter under the supervision of a psychiatrist. If it is determined that she has changed, and Peter will not be psychologically damaged in her care, she will gain joint custody with Mr. Stark. The session will be scheduled for this afternoon.”

Tony sighed and leaned back. “She’s going to traumatize him,” he whispered to Clint.

“If she does, I’d be more than happy to sic James on her ass,” Clint replied.

“I might just take you up on that.”

“I’m not a dog, Clint,” Bucky muttered. Clint just patted his knee and grinned.

“Of course not, darling mine.”

Peter returned with Steve after a few hours, and Tony immediately scooped him up and kissed his cheek repeatedly.

“ _Daddy_ ,” Peter protested. He leaned away and wiped at his cheek, blushing adorably. “People can see.”

“Let them,” Tony replied. He kissed his son’s cheek again and sat with him in his lap. “Baby… you’re gonna go with Janice for a bit, okay? To talk to her.”

“I don’ wanna,” Peter said. He crossed his arms stubbornly.

“It’s okay, baby, she’s okay,” Tony told him. He raked his fingers through his hair and kissed the top of Peter’s head. “It’s okay, baby, it’s just for an hour or so, and we’ll be here when you’re done and we’ll all go get ice cream, okay?”

Peter pouted, but after a moment he nodded reluctantly and slid of Tony’s lap. A court officer came over and took his hand to lead him into the room where Janice was waiting. With one final wave back, Peter disappeared and the door firmly shut behind him.

It was the longest hour of Tony’s life. He paced about in the empty courtroom, tugging at his hair and cracking his knuckles nervously. If Peter liked Janice… if he wanted to stay with her… well, Tony didn’t know what he’d do, but it wouldn’t be good.

As it turned out, there was no need to worry. After forty-five minutes, the door opened and Peter came running out. Tony turned to greet him, and his heart sank when he saw tears in the boy’s eyes.

“Daddy!” he cried, launching himself into Tony’s arms. Tony attempted to calm him, rubbing circles up and down his back while he glared at Janice from across the room.

Janice looked genuinely distraught. She sighed and rubbed her temple, speaking urgently to her lawyer in hushed tones. The man turned and approached Tony cautiously.

“Ms. Cord has no further desire to pursue joint custody,” he reported. Tony frowned in confusion.

“What exactly changed her mind?” he asked.

The man looked nervously at the team before clearing his throat. “She feels… given the circumstances…”

“Daddy, she call me ‘fective an’ say she didn’ wan’ a deaf son,” Peter sobbed.

Tony saw red. He carefully pried Peter from his shirt and handed him to Steve, who took the boy with open arms. Peter just curled into Steve’s chest, wrapped his arms and legs around the supersoldier, and sobbed again.

Janice inched back as Tony stormed towards her. “Come near my son again,” he growled when he reached her. “Try to make any contact with him, try to take him away again, and I’ll see to it that every second of the rest of your life is miserable. You’re a cruel, heartless bitch and you never should have been a mother.”

Janice tilted her chin up in an attempt to gain some control. “You never told me he was… handicapped,” she hissed.

He stepped forward threateningly and she hopped back in fear. “Get the hell out of my face,” he told her. “Or I’ll get the suit and drop you from the Empire State Building.”

Janice turned and marched out without another word, her lawyers following meekly behind.

Tony took a settling breath and returned to his son. Steve was comforting Peter carefully, murmuring soothing words and bouncing him in his arms. Peter’s sobs had quieted to small, heart-breaking hiccups.

“Give him to me,” Tony said quietly. Steve turned him carefully and Peter immediately latched on to his father.

Clint looked murderous. “Can I?” he asked, keeping his eyes on the door that Janice had just stormed out of. Tony nodded, and the archer dragged Bucky away. Bucky looked all too willing to go, but he leaned over and smoothed Peter’s hair back as they passed.

“You know murder is still illegal,” Natasha whispered to Steve. “Not that I'm complaining about this.”

“Clint won’t kill her,” Steve reassured. “Just… scare her a little.”

Natasha arched an eyebrow. “Thought you’d be against breaking the laws to threaten someone?”

Steve glanced over at Peter, who had quieted his hiccups and was now staring blankly at Tony’s neck while the man murmured softly to him. “Not this time,” he said quietly.

The team headed straight for the Tower afterwards. Tony took Peter off alone to give him a warm bath, hoping it would calm him down. Peter, who usually giggled and tried to cover Tony with bubbles, just sat quietly while Tony washed him and scrubbed at his hair. Tony found the big yellow towel Peter loved so much and wrapped him in it from head to toe afterwards.

“Everything’s gonna be okay, baby boy,” he murmured as he dried Peter off carefully. Peter just stuck his thumb in his mouth and leaned into Tony’s touch.

They went into Peter’s room, and Peter squirmed away from Tony to waddle over to his drawers, still draped in the towel. He opened up the pajama drawer and pulled out his favorite Iron Man pajamas and a pair of Iron Man socks and underwear without removing his thumb from his mouth. Tony helped him dress and grabbed a pacifier from his bedside table. Peter hadn’t been using one recently, but it seemed he needed it now.

“Daddy?” Tony turned when he heard Peter whisper.

“What’s wrong, baby?” he asked. Peter curled into Tony’s chest and tucked his head under Tony's chin.

 _'I don’t want a mommy_ ,' he signed with shaky hands. After that, he was silent again.

Clint and Bucky arrived several hours later. The team was in the family room, watching _Alice in Wonderland_ and munching on popcorn from one of the four huge bowls Tony had put out. Peter was curled in Tony’s lap, holding his Iron Man doll with one hand and clutching Tony’s shirt with the other while he sucked on his pacifier. His legs were dangling off Tony’s lap and planted firmly on Steve’s legs next to them.

“Flattened her tires, egged her house, cut off her electricity, put green dye in her pool,” Clint informed them briefly. “And Bucky snuck in and put super glue in her shampoo.”

“Good,” Natasha replied. “Come watch with us, Alice just ate the cookie.”

Clint and Bucky curled together on the empty armchair, Clint’s back flush against Bucky’s chest. Clint glanced over at Peter but didn’t say anything.

Peter didn’t sleep in his room that night. Tony tried to put him to bed at 8, but Peter started tearing up and he whimpered when they entered his room, so Tony just grabbed his toothbrush and let him stay in the family room with the rest of the team until he fell asleep. After that Tony picked the boy up and brought him into Tony’s room to tuck him in. He almost left him alone, but the sight of his son, curled up and sniffling while he slept, shattered what was left of his heart. He curled up on the bed beside Peter and watched him until dawn painted the sky and he finally fell into a fitful sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow this almost hurt to write (which is my excuse why it took so long). But you asked for Peter's mom and that's what you got. Luckily, Peter's got a big happy family to give him cuddles and make him feel better later.
> 
> Side note: Janice Cord was a former girlfriend of Tony Stark in the comics in the late 1960s. I have nothing against her personally and liked her well enough as a character, I just needed a name for Peter's mother and she came to mind as a lesser known character who'd had a relationship with Tony.


	9. Nothing Wrong

Peter didn’t talk for four days.

Those four days were the worst days of Tony’s life.

He wouldn’t talk to anyone, wouldn’t sign with anyone—including Clint, who was starting to sign any time Peter was even in the same room as him. All he did was sit on the couch and play with his Iron Man doll in silence.

“Baby, please?” Tony begged. He was kneeling in front of the couch, leaning forward on his elbows while Peter stared down at his lap and absently moved one of Iron Man’s arms up and down. “Just one word, any word you want.”

Peter had at least agreed to keep wearing his hearing aids, though Tony suspected it was more out of necessity since he refused to look at anyone or sign with them. The boy just shook his head and curled his legs tighter to his chest.

“Peter, please.” Tony sat up with a groan and scooted Peter over on the couch to make room for himself. He collapsed on the couch and leaned his head back with a sigh. “I know you’re sad, and that’s okay, but you have lots of people that love you very much who are very worried for you.”

“Nu-uh.” Tony opened his eyes and looked down at his son at his first words since ‘the incident’. “Just you,” Peter continued. He clenched the Iron Man doll until Tony was sure he’d rip an arm off.

“Not just me,” Tony replied. “The whole team is very upset that you’re sad and they want to help.” Peter shook his head again. “It’s true, baby.”

“Nu-uh. ‘Cause they know I'm ‘fective,” Peter insisted.

Not for the first time, Tony wished he could find Janice and throw her into an inter-dimensional portal for having the nerve to call his son ‘defective’.

“Peter, listen to me.” Peter looked up at Tony with wide eyes and Tony scooped him up and plopped him on the couch armrest. “Just because you can’t hear like the other boys and girls in the world, it doesn’t make you defective,” he explained. “It just makes you a little different, and there’s nothing wrong with that. You don’t see people walking around with a light in their chest like Daddy, right?” Peter shook his head and Tony continued, “Well, that means Daddy’s a little special. It doesn’t mean anything’s wrong with me. Just like there’s nothing wrong with you.”

Peter wiped his nose with the back of his hand and sniffed. “Nuffin’ wrong?” he repeated. Tony smiled and kissed Peter’s cheek.

“Absolutely nothing wrong. And the team knows that, too.”

At that moment, Bucky and Clint entered the kitchen, arguing softly with each other. Peter popped his head above the back of the couch and shouted, “Clint!” Clint turned in surprise and Peter smiled shyly at him. “There’s nuffin’ wrong with me,” he said in a quiet voice.

Clint blinked, and Tony could see the cogs turning in his mind as he processed what Peter had just said. The archer grinned after a moment and gave a mock salute. “You said it, kiddo,” he replied. “Tell Bucky, too.”

“Buck, there’s nuffin’ wrong with me,” Peter repeated. Bucky smiled and nodded silently, but Tony saw him wrap his metal arm around Clint’s waist.

Peter jumped off the couch and tugged at Tony’s arm. “Gotta go find everyone else,” he insisted. Tony chuckled and followed his son towards the elevator.

“JARVIS, find the rest of the team,” he called. “Does this mean we’re talking again?” he asked his son as they stepped into the elevator and Tony lifted Peter to press the button.

“Uh-huh,” Peter replied.

“Good.” Tony scooped the boy up and kissed his cheek. “I don’t like when you don’t talk to me. Promise you won’t do it again?”

“Promise.”

The doors opened in Bruce’s lab, where Natasha and Bruce were sitting on a couch and watching reruns of _I Love Lucy_. Peter squirmed until Tony let him down and then raced over.

“Tasha, Doc Bruce!” The two turned at the sound of Peter’s voice, and he stopped at the couch arm and hopped up and down next to it. “Guess what?” he said.

“Tell us,” Natasha replied. She leaned over the couch arm until she was almost nose-to-nose with Peter. He grinned.

“There’s nuffin’ wrong with me,” he told them in a confident voice.

“That’s exactly right,” Bruce replied. “Did your dad tell you that?”

“Uh-huh,” Peter replied. “I’m gonna tell the whole team!”

Natasha smiled and stroked Peter’s cheek. “That’s very good of you, _коала,_ ” she murmured. “So everyone will know how special you are.”

Peter nodded and ran back to Tony. “Come on, we gotta find the others,” he demanded.

Sam was back in DC for the weekend on some mission for SHIELD, and Thor was visiting Jane in New Mexico, so the only one left in the Tower to tell was Steve. He was in the gym, knocking away at a punching bag, when Tony and Peter arrived. Peter immediately ran forward, struggling for a moment with the heavy doors before managing to push them open.

“Cap! Cap! Cap!” he called out as he raced across the gym. Steve stopped the swinging bag and turned with a small smile.

“Hey, there you are,” he greeted. “What are you doing down here? I thought it was getting close to your nap time.”

Peter collided with Steve’s legs and wrapped himself around them firmly until Steve bent down and lifted him up.

“Guess what?” Peter panted. He took a few quick breaths to control his breathing again and then beamed. “There’s nuffin’ wrong with me!”

Steve frowned in confusion and shifted Peter in his arms. “Of course there’s nothing wrong with you,” he confirmed. “You’re such a special boy, how could there possibly be anything wrong with you?”

Peter shrugged. “’Cause I can’t hear as good,” he replied.

Steve smiled and brushed Peter’s hair back. “Maybe, but you know what you can do?” Peter shook his head. “You can speak _two_ languages.”

“Really?” Peter frowned.

“Really really. You can speak with your hands, right?” Steve nodded down to Peter’s hands and the boy lifted them up to see. “That’s something not many people can do. But you can, and that makes you extra special.”

Peter’s smile was bright as the sun now. For whatever reason, Steve’s affirmation that there was nothing wrong with him was clearly more special to the boy.

It was more significant to Tony, too. He hadn’t been keeping it much of a secret that he had feelings for Steve, though the supersoldier seemed too dense to catch on to them at the moment. Tony knew Steve felt something for him, too, if the stolen glances and secret smiles were anything to go by. Besides, Steve was wonderful with Peter, and that was pretty much the most important thing for Tony.

The biggest reason Tony wasn’t moving forward with their relationship was the press. If the paparazzi got hold of the news that _Captain America_ and _Iron Man_ were dating, they’d never have any peace. And Peter was already so sensitive about the media and being exposed to the paparazzi, it would be a disaster in the making. Tony was safer off right now leaving their relationship where it was.

Still, he couldn’t help but feel a little wistful about the whole thing as he watched Steve and Peter talk quietly with each other.

 _Maybe someday,_ he thought.

\--------------------

After Peter’s boost in confidence, suddenly he wanted to go everywhere. To the park, out for ice cream, shopping with the team. Once, when Natasha had an op that required her to go undercover at a red-carpet gala, she took Peter to several designer stores with her in order to get his opinion on what dress to buy. Tony received several pictures and videos that day of Peter wearing a little yellow flower crown Natasha had bought for him, posing with various dresses and charming the shop attendants into giving them a discount. Tony had been very proud.

The paparazzi still hounded them, but Tony managed to set up a restraining order with his legal department that prevented anyone from printing or publishing pictures of Peter without Tony’s prior approval. After that, it became easier to keep Peter’s disability out of the news and allowed Peter the freedom to choose which pictures people saw of him (there were now _a lot_ of pictures circulating of him running around in his underwear, covered in cookie dough while Clint vainly tried to catch him).

Now that Peter wanted to go out all the time, and he had the freedom to do so, he usually wasted no time in waking Tony up to start the day.

“Daddy. Daddy. Daddy.”

Tony sighed and blinked awake. Peter was wearing a pair of Captain America briefs and a chef’s hat and nothing else. He was covered in flour and a thick pink goo-like substance, and there were yellow footprints littered across the carpet.

This, unfortunately, was not the weirdest thing Tony had woken up to.

“Baby, what are you doing?” he asked, pushing himself up with a soft groan.

“Cap’s teachin’ me to make slime,” Peter explained as though it were obvious. “I made it pink. Cap made yellow.”

“I see that. And why is Cap making slime with you at 8:30 in the morning?”

Peter hopped up on the bed and bounced excitedly. “’Cause I had a bad dream an’ JARVIS said Cap was already awake so I asked if he could make pancakes an’ then he had flour left over so we made slime an’ I made it pink an’ Cap made it yellow.”

Tony smiled and kissed Peter’s forehead. “You said that part already,” he chuckled. Peter held his arms out expectantly and Tony lifted him and carried him back to the kitchen. “I’m glad you’re having fun, though. Wanna go to the park today?”

Peter bounced in Tony’s arms and clapped. “Yes, yes, yes,” he chanted.

“Alright, let’s go finish your slime so Daddy can get breakfast.”

Steve was mixing another bowl of slime when Tony and Peter entered. Peter wriggled until Tony let him down so he could run over and hop onto his stool next to the counter. “This one gotta be green for Doc Bruce,” he insisted.

Steve smiled at Tony in greeting. “Morning. There’s pancakes on the table.”

Tony grabbed a coffee cup and filled it to the brim. “Good morning,” he replied. “Why is my son naked and covered in flour?”

“We had a little accident early on and it got all over his pajamas,” Steve explained. Peter reached over and Steve helped him stir the concoction some more. “He didn’t want to leave his work to change, so he just took them off and went naked. He’s still wearing underwear, if that helps.”

“And I’m sure it’s a huge boost to your ego that they happen to be Captain America underwear.”

Steve shrugged and bit back a grin. “It doesn’t hurt,” he said simply. Tony rolled his eyes and dug into a pancake.

“Cap, guess what?” Peter grinned up at the supersoldier. “We goin’ to the park today!”

Steve smiled and poured the now green slime into a pan. “Just you and your dad or the whole team?” he asked. “Because we should probably wake the others if they want to go.”

Peter’s face scrunched up in thought. “We gotta wake Clint an’ Buck,” he decided after a moment. “Tasha’s scary when she wakes up.”

“Finally he’s learning,” Tony muttered. Steve flicked some slime at him. “Wanna go wake them now, Peter?”

Peter nodded and hopped off the stool. “C’mon, Cap, you gotta come, too,” he insisted. Steve took his apron off and followed Peter with Tony.

Peter had gotten better about opening the door silently, but Bucky still jumped awake as soon as they entered. Tony just chalked it up to Hydra paranoia and thanked his stars that the man didn’t throw a knife or something every time Peter decided they needed to wake up.

“Pete, what are you doing in here?” Bucky asked. “And why are you naked and covered in flour?”

“We made slime. Mine’s pink,” Peter explained simply. Bucky frowned in confusion at Steve, but he just shrugged. “We goin’ to the park today, c’mon,” Peter continued.

Bucky nodded and shifted carefully so as not to wake Clint. He knew that honor was reserved for Peter. “Alright, kid, come get him,” he said with a grin. Peter launched himself onto the bed, wrapped his arms and legs around Clint’s leg, and bounced. Hard.

“ _Clint!”_ he shouted. Clint sat up with a confused noise and blinked down at the boy kneeling by his feet.

“You’re naked,” he said after a moment. Bucky snorted and kissed Clint’s temple before rolling out of bed. “He’s naked,” Clint informed Bucky as he stood up. “Why is he naked? Stark, why is your son naked?”

“You sound distressed,” Tony grinned. “This is a real problem for you, isn’t it?”

“There’s a naked, floury three-year-old at the foot of my bed and no one seems to have any answers for me,” Clint replied. “This is a problem for anyone.”

“He’s only mostly naked. I don’t think it’s a problem,” Bucky called from the bathroom.

“We made slime an’ now we’re goin’ to the park,” Peter told Clint. “Mine’s pink.”

“Your park?”

“My _slime_.” Peter rolled his eyes and hopped off the bed. Clint’s eyes widened dramatically.

“He rolled his eyes. Did you see that? He’s turning into Stark, I can’t handle this, I'm moving.”

“Don’t be overdramatic,” Steve said.

“He rolled his eyes at me!”

“It was bound to happen one day,” Bucky told him.

“Don’t you take his side, James, we’re moving out immediately and that’s final.”

“Let me know how that goes,” Bucky smirked.

Steve chased Peter off to finish their slime, and Tony followed to finish his breakfast. Peter stole a bite of Tony’s pancake and sniffed at his coffee before Steve scooped him up and plopped him on his stool.

“Daddy, can I have coffee?” he asked.

“Not until you’re thirteen,” Tony replied. Peter pouted and gave his best sad look. Tony stared right back, unfazed. “Thirteen,” he repeated. “Now finish up, you need to have a bath first before we go to the park.”

“I want Cap to do it.”

“I don’t think we want to scare Cap away with threats of bath time just yet,” Tony grinned. Peter mimicked Steve and flicked slime at him.

“I can do bath,” Steve said. He tilted his chin up in a mockingly haughty way and flipped his hair back dramatically. “I’m Captain America, remember?”

Tony laughed and refilled his coffee cup. “Your funeral.”

\--------------------

Peter leaned over and attempted to spike Steve’s hair into a mohawk with the bubbles in his hand. Steve grinned and scrubbed at Peter’s hair.

“You stop that,” he pretended to chastise. Peter grinned wickedly and resumed his styling full-force. Steve gave it up as a lost cause and rinsed Peter’s hair.

“At the park, can we play ball an’ ride the swings an’ go down the slide?” Peter asked.

“I don’t see why not,” Steve replied. Peter clapped, sending bubbles everywhere.

“Will you go down the slide with me?”

“If I can fit, sure.”

Peter giggled. “Can I wear my Thor shirt?” he asked as Steve lifted him out of the tub.

Steve smiled. “Sure. Let’s dry you off and get you dressed.”

After Peter was relatively dry, he raced to his room and pulled a Thor shirt and blue jeans out of his drawers. Steve found another pair of Captain America underwear and helped him dress. “You’ll need a jacket, it’s a little chilly outside still,” he said once they were done. Peter nodded and ran to his closet to fish out the Ninja Turtle jacket Natasha had gotten him.

Tony was tapping away at a hologram in the middle of the family room when Peter and Steve appeared again. Clint and Bucky were lounging on the couch, and Clint was watching one of his new shows that he seemed to love so much.

“Hey, there he is,” Tony said when he saw Peter. He frowned at the jacket. “What’s that?”

“It’s Ninja Turtles,” Peter said proudly.

“They’re crime-fighting turtles who live in the sewers of New York,” Steve explained.

“How do _you_ know what Ninja Turtles are?” Tony grinned. Steve shrugged.

“Peter’s shown me the TV show a few times.”

“I wish they’d been around for that incident with the giant octopus in the sewer last week,” Clint muttered. He stood up and pulled Bucky to his feet. “Well, are we going or what?”

As they walked, Peter raced ahead to chase pigeons off the sidewalk. “I texted Natasha and Bruce and they’re gonna meet us at that park in a bit,” Clint said. “Who wants to bet that they had morning sex?”

“I don’t even want to think about it, never mind bet about it,” Tony replied.

“Daddy, can we have ice cream today?” Peter called back. He raced towards Tony and jumped into his arms.

“What’s the magic word?” Tony replied.

“Please?” Peter gave him a hopeful smile and tapped his chest above the arc reactor. “Pretty please with ice cream?”

Tony sighed and kissed Peter’s cheek. “Alright, I’ll go get ice cream. You go with Cap to the park and I’ll meet you there.” Peter cheered and swung down from his arms to race towards the park again.

“We’ll come with you,” Clint said. He grabbed Bucky’s sleeve and tugged him along. “I want strawberry, come on.”

“I’m married to a child,” Bucky whispered to Steve as he passed. Steve grinned and followed Peter.

Peter was already on the swings when Steve arrived. He gestured wildly until Steve joined him and sat on the swing beside him. “Watch me go super high!” Peter giggled. Steve laughed and watched while he pumped his legs and swung back and forth wildly. After a moment he jumped off, landing in a crouch and jumping up.

“I’m gonna go play on the slide,” he informed Steve. “You stay here an’ watch me.”

“Okay.” Steve watched him race off and smiled. Sitting here, watching Peter play, he could almost pretend he was Peter’s father. It was nice, thinking like that. Steve could get used to it.

Except Tony didn’t feel that way about him, and Steve was just getting his hopes up thinking that way. He sighed and glanced over at the street, wondering where the others were.

That was when the screaming started.

Steve stopped thinking and switched into battle mode. He stood up, looking around for Peter, and saw him standing by a red slide not far from where Steve was. A man wearing a black facemask was looming over him, while a large van waited not far off.

Steve raced towards them, barely pausing as he grabbed the lid off a nearby metal trashcan. He flipped it towards the stranger, veering off to grab Peter and drop him off a safe distance away. Only when he knew Peter was safe did he look back.

The man was lying on the ground, clearly unconscious, and the van was long gone. Steve knelt next to Peter and brushed his hair back.

“Did he hurt you?” he asked. Peter shook his head and wrapped an arm around Steve’s neck.

“Nu-uh, but he said I’d be safe if I went in his van an’ that he’d take me to Daddy. But I told him Daddy was gettin’ ice cream across the street an’ I was with you. Then you hit him with the lid.”

“Okay, good. You know not to ever go with a stranger, right?” Peter nodded and Steve picked him up. “Alright. Let’s go find your dad, okay?”

That was when the first building exploded.

\--------------------

Steve woke up to the munchkins singing in _The Wizard of Oz._ He groaned and sat up a bit, blinking up at the TV. "Hey, I love this movie," he croaked out.

“Cap! You’re okay!” Peter launched himself towards the bed, wrapping himself around Steve’s arm. Steve smiled and brushed his hair back.

“I’m okay, Peter. Where’s your dad?” he asked.

After the taco restaurant across the street blew up, Steve grabbed Peter again and set him behind a cluster of trees. He crouched next to the boy, wishing he had his shield with him, until he saw a group of armed men wearing identical black facemasks advance down the street. After telling Peter to stay where he was and texting the boy’s location to Natasha, Steve sprinted off towards the group of men to take them down.

It hadn’t gone as well as Steve had hoped. He brought the men down, but wound up with a few bullet wounds and one very nasty slash to his arm. He’d fallen unconscious pretty quickly after that, though he managed to stay awake long enough to see Natasha grab Peter from his hiding place unharmed.

Steve heard the door open and turned. “Oh thank god,” Tony breathed. He rubbed his temple and collapsed in the chair next to Steve’s bed. “Jesus, Rogers, way to scare a man half to death,” he muttered.

“Sorry,” Steve replied. He continued stroking Peter’s hair, and shifted in the bed so Peter could sit cross-legged next to him.

“Daddy was super scared but I told him you was a supersoldier so you had to be okay,” Peter informed him. “An’ I was right!”

“That’s right, Peter, you were right,” Steve replied. He settled back in the bed and scratched at the bandage on his arm in irritation.

“Hey, quit that,” Tony protested. He slapped Steve’s hand away and glared at him. “And in case you were planning on asking, you’re staying here for at least another two nights until they clear you, Rogers.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “Whatever you say, Stark,” he said. He knew the doctors here, and they’d let him out by tonight if he was careful in how he acted around them.

Bucky and Clint arrived a few minutes later. Bucky gave him a quick look and shrugged. “Seen worse,” he said simply. Tony stared at him.

“You’ve seen _him_ worse?” he asked.

Bucky nodded and sat in a chair on the other side of the room. “Once in ’38 he thought it’d be a good idea to take on five gangsters who were harassing a neighborhood girl. It didn’t end well.”

Steve winced at that memory. He’d been in the hospital for over two months with that one. He never had paid that bill off in full.

“You’re a masochist,” Tony decided. “It’s the only explanation.”

“I am not a masochist,” Steve protested. “I had to stop the men today. They were armed with guns, they were going to hurt someone. Besides, they blew up a building.” He frowned. “Who were those guys, anyways?”

“We don’t know,” Clint said. He leaned against the wall next to Bucky, looking grim. “We couldn’t find any intel on them, and nobody was left behind to interrogate. When they saw us coming they booked. Didn’t even leave any guns or evidence.”

Steve frowned and bit his lip in thought. “One of them tried to talk to Peter,” he said after a moment. “Tried to get him to go somewhere in one of their vans. I knocked him out with a trashcan lid.”

Bucky grinned. “Finally got that to work for you, huh?”

Tony shook his head. “There was no one there,” he replied. “They must have picked him up on their way out.”

“We’ve got analysts reviewing the footage from surrounding video cameras,” Clint told him. “If there’s anything to be found, they’ll find it.”

Bucky stood and grabbed Clint’s hand. “And now we’re going to find an empty room and sleep,” he finished. “This asshole thought he could get away without sleeping for three days straight without me noticing.” Clint pouted and allowed himself to be dragged out. He grinned and saluted Steve as they passed.

“I hope you guys haven’t been too worried over me,” Steve frowned. “It wasn’t anywhere near the worst injury I’ve had in battle.”

“That’s why people were worried,” Tony replied. “Your wounds weren’t bad considering some of the other ones you’ve had, but you slept for three days straight. We think they might have hit you with something, some drug that messed with the serum inside you. Bruce is running tests now.”

“They didn’t hurt anyone else, did they?”

Tony shook his head. “No one was in the restaurant, thank God.”

Steve glanced over at Peter and saw he had fallen asleep while they were talking. He shifted and allowed Tony to reach over and scoop him up to place him on the empty bed next to Steve.

“He’s been pretty worried over you,” Tony murmured. “Kept asking when you’d wake up so you could play again.”

Steve grinned at him. “Sorry for worrying you,” he said. “I just… I saw those men on the street and I had to protect—” _Peter._ “The… the people in the park.”

Tony waved his concerns off and leaned back in his chair. “You saved my son,” he replied. “There was an emergency, and you saved him. I owe you a debt of gratitude, Steve.” Tony looked at him and smiled. “Thank you.”

Steve smiled back and, leaning back in his bed, allowed himself one tiny ray of hope.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor baby Peter needed a confidence boost again. Fortunately, the Avengers are here to save the day. Hooray for happy endings! (And just as a side note, Janice eventually goes bankrupt, relapses, and heads back to jail. Hooray!)
> 
> Next chapter will (hopefully!) be Steve and Tony getting together. And Make This Place Your Home's next chapter will probably (hopefully again!) be up by the end of the week. Happy Thanksgiving!


	10. Broken Reactors, Broken Hearts

Peter kicked his feet up and scribbled in his drawing with bright green crayon. Tony came over and sat behind him on the floor. Peter immediately shifted into Tony’s lap and resumed his coloring.

“Whatcha got there, Pete?” Tony asked. Peter paused his coloring to show his picture to Tony.

“It’s Superman,” Peter explained. “’Cept he’s got green an' yellow ‘stead of red an' blue ‘cause those is Cap’s colors an' Superman can’t have them.”

“That’s very inventive,” Tony praised. “Maybe his symbol should be purple?”

Peter considered it seriously before nodding. “Uh-huh.” With that, he began coloring again in earnest.

The elevator opened and Clint stumbled out with Bucky in tow. “Hey,” he greeted tiredly. In one surprisingly fluid motion, he slung Bucky down on the couch sideways, kicked off his shoes, and collapsed on the other man's chest.

“What’s your problem?” Tony asked.

Clint snuffled into Bucky’s neck and wiggled until he was lying on his side and staring at Tony. “Fought a bad guy. Six hours straight. Dude could take out electricity or some shit. Knocked out James’ arm. Exploded all my exploding arrows. Cap took him out with the shield.”

“Yay for Cap!” Peter cheered. Clint gave a half-hearted glare and curled against Bucky’s chest.

“I do all the work, freakin’ Spangles gets all the credit,” Clint muttered. “Typical.”

“Don’t be petty,” Bucky mumbled. His eyes were closed and he already looked half-asleep.

“Shaddup and go to sleep,” Clint replied.

“Mmm.”

Tony grinned and handed Peter the orange crayon that the boy pointed to. “You two are adorably disgusting. Get a room.”

“Shaddup,” Clint repeated.

“Room too far,” Bucky agreed.

“It’s maybe twenty feet down the hall,” Tony protested.

“Shaddup,” Bucky slurred. With that, he fell asleep.

Clint grinned without opening his eyes. “Knew there was a reason I married that man.” Seconds later, he was asleep, too.

Peter giggled and poked at Clint’s leg. “Is they dead?” he whispered.

“Just in case they are, we should evacuate the room before they start to smell,” Tony replied. Peter giggled again and followed Tony into the kitchen with his coloring book.

Steve arrived on the next elevator up, hefting his shield on the counter and collapsing in a chair with a hefty sigh.

“I will give you my right arm if you have hot coffee,” he told Tony.

Tony chuckled and stood up to get a cup. “You owe me one arm,” he said as he placed the mug in front of Steve.

“Worth it,” Steve replied. He gulped the coffee down and moaned in a frankly sinful way. Tony swallowed and reached for a cup for himself as a distraction. “God, I would marry you for this coffee,” Steve groaned into the mug.

“Your priorities are astoundingly low,” Tony said. He sat next to Steve and watched Peter color in a dragon.

Steve reached over and placed a finger on Tony’s lips. “Shh,” he whispered. “No big words. Not now.”

“Wow,” Tony grinned. “That battle really took its toll on you, huh?”

“Shh,” Steve repeated.

“Cap, is you sleepy?” Peter asked.

“Very much so,” Steve replied.

“You can borrow my blanky if you wanna,” Peter offered. Steve smiled and ruffled Peter’s hair affectionately.

“Thanks, but I've got my own, and it’s calling my name,” Steve said. He stood up and put his empty cup in the sink.

“Kay,” Peter said, resuming his coloring.

“Say goodnight to Cap, baby,” Tony told him. “I have a feeling we won’t be seeing him for a while.”

Peter beamed at Steve and reached up to tug him down by his collar. He planted his hands on Steve’s cheeks and smacked a sloppy kiss on the man’s chin. “Night night, Cap,” he said.

Steve’s smile could have melted solid ice. He kissed Peter’s head and stumbled down the hallway and into his room.

“Daddy, Cap looked silly,” Peter giggled. Tony kissed Peter’s forehead and pulled him into his lap.

“Cap’s just really, _really_ sleepy,” he explained. “Let’s let him sleep for a few hours.”

“Uh-huh. Can we play racecars?”

“Sure. Why don’t you go get them and we’ll play in here, okay?”

Peter jumped off Tony’s lap and ran for the hallway. “You stay,” he called over his shoulder.

Tony leaned back and smiled as he watched his son go. He was so absorbed in Peter that he missed the flashing blue light until a sharp, familiar ache shot through his chest.

“Oh God,” he moaned. Clutching his chest, he gasped for breath and leaned forward. “JARVIS…Peter,” he managed.

“Young sir is currently getting cars in his room,” JARVIS replied. “He is safe.”

“Get Steve,” he rasped next. JARVIS might have answered, but a rushing noise filled his ears and he convulsed out of his chair, already unconscious.

\--------------------

Steve collapsed in bed with a groan and buried himself into the sheets. He planned to sleep for at least a day after how brutal that battle had been. Luckily, Tony hadn’t been there, or it would have been even worse. The villain had been controlling technology—one flick of his wrist and Tony would have been powerless inside the suit.

He had just started to drift off when JARVIS spoke through the speakers. “Captain Rogers, there is an emergency that requires your attention.”

Steve sighed and sat up. “Someone had better be dying, JARVIS,” he muttered as he rolled out of bed.

JARVIS paused for a moment, and Steve grew worried. “I am afraid that may soon be the case,” the AI finally replied. “Sir’s reactor has cut off entirely.”

Steve felt a wave of panic rush down his spine. He sprinted for the kitchen, where Peter was leaning over his father’s unconscious body with a worried frown.

“Daddy? S’not funny,” he was saying as Steve arrived. “Daddy, wake up. You said we’d play.”

“Peter, come here,” Steve said. Peter glanced up and frowned.

“Daddy’s not gettin’ up,” he told Steve. Steve glanced down and saw that the reactor light was almost entirely out. He swallowed hard and scooped Peter up.

“Daddy’s very tired,” he said carefully. “Stay here with me, okay?” Peter nodded and Steve raced over the couch. He leaned down and shoved Bucky’s shoulder until he blinked awake. “Stark’s light is out,” he said. Bucky shot up and knocked Clint off his chest. The archer woke and glanced to where Bucky was headed for the kitchen.

“What’s going on?” he slurred.

“Stark’s light,” Bucky called. Peter frowned and leaned over in Steve’s arms to try and see Tony.

“What’s wrong with Daddy’s light?” he asked. “Does it need batteries?”

Clint was already moving, dialing on his phone frantically as he headed for the kitchen. “Steve, get him out of here,” he commanded. Steve nodded and headed for Peter’s room.

Peter immediately changed. He whined and kicked, first hesitantly, and then much harder when he realized Steve wasn’t budging. “Put me down!” he shouted. “Wanna see Daddy! Put me _down!”_

Steve adjusted his grip and rushed Peter into his room. He practically slammed the door behind him and sat in the armchair by the window, arms firmly locked around Peter as the boy hit and clawed at Steve’s arms and chest.

“ _Daddy!_ ” Peter was screaming. “Wanna see _Daddy!”_

Steve winced at the scream and tightened his grip a fraction. “Peter, Daddy has to be alone for a little bit,” he tried gently. “But you can stay here with me, okay?”

“No!” Peter slapped at Steve’s chest and neck and wriggled in his grip. “Daddy, Daddy!”

“I’m sorry, Peter,” Steve soothed. “You can’t see Daddy right now, he’s not feeling well.”

“Lemme _go!_ Lemme go, you big jerk!”

“How about we play dinosaurs instead?”

“I hope a dino eats you!”

“Or we could play racecars?”

“Lemme go, you meanie!”

Steve adjusted Peter in his lap and leaned back. “JARVIS, how is he?” he asked.

“Sir is being taken to the hospital now,” JARVIS replied. Peter struggled even harder and slapped Steve’s cheek.

“Ow! Peter, that hurt!” Steve protested. “Don’t do that, you know better.”

“Don’ care,” Peter replied. He tried to slap Steve again but the supersoldier gently grabbed his hand.

“Peter, please, Daddy’s not feeling well, so we’re going to stay together for now,” Steve explained.

“I don’ wanna stay with you!”

“I promise we’ll go see Daddy soon—”

“Jerk! Meanie! _Asshole!_ ”

“Peter! We do not use that language,” Steve scolded. “I don’t know where you heard that, but you do not use it again, you hear me?”

“I don’ hafta listen t'you!”

Steve sighed again and placed Peter on the ground beside his toys. Peter immediately made a break for it, but Steve blocked him and struggled for a minute until Peter suddenly just gave up.

He fell on his bottom and stared at the door with wide eyes while Steve watched warily. After a minute, he grabbed a car and started rolling it over the carpet. Steve breathed in relief and sat next to him.

Peter kept it up for all of five minutes before he threw the car across the room. Steve turned to scold him again, but paused when he saw the look on Peter’s face. The little boy sniffled, then hiccupped, and then let out a piercing wail that collapsed into heart wrenching sobs.

Steve immediately scooped him up in his arms and cradled him gently. “Shh, it’s alright,” he crooned. Peter sobbed harder and flung his arms around Steve’s neck. “It’s okay, I’ve got you.”

“Daddy, Daddy,” Peter wailed. He started gasping, almost to the point of hyperventilating, and Steve rubbed his back in an attempt to calm his breathing. Even though there was no way Peter knew the full extent of what was happening, it was clear he knew something was wrong with Tony and he was devastated by it.

“Captain Rogers,” JARVIS said softly over Peter’s cries. “Sir is in the hospital now. You may take young sir if you would like.”

“Daddy,” Peter hiccupped. He scrambled up, hands on Steve’s shoulders for balance, and took a shaky breath. “Daddy,” he repeated.

“You want to go see Daddy?” Steve asked. Peter nodded and took another, steadier breath. “That’s it, let’s calm down a bit and then we’ll go see him.”

That seemed to encourage Peter. He took several more breaths until his breathing returned to normal, then dried his tears on his sleeve and retrieved his shoes from the floor. Steve helped him put them on, and Peter grabbed his stuffed Iron Man from the bed as they passed on the way out. He cuddled it to his chest and took Steve’s hand carefully.

The drive to the hospital was eerily silent. Peter stared out the window, clutching Iron Man with both hands as though he were afraid it would disappear, too. Steve glanced in the rearview mirror every now and then, but Peter never budged.

Natasha met him at the front door. “It’s not good,” she murmured so Peter couldn’t hear. “They’re taking him in to surgery. The reactor’s already shut down before, and this time when it happened the fragments were already much closer to his heart than they had been before. They have to remove those now or he won’t make it.”

Steve swallowed and nodded. “Do they have any idea what caused it to shut down?” he whispered.

“The villain you, Bucky, and Clint were fighting earlier today,” Natasha explained. “He set up an EMP to go off just before you took him down. When it went off, it affected Tony’s reactor and shut it down.”

“Jesus,” Steve breathed. “Can Peter see him?”

“He’s in surgery,” Natasha replied. “He’ll be out in a few hours.”

“Daddy?” Peter asked. He craned his neck as though Tony would magically appear before him. “Where’s Daddy?”

“He’ll be out in a little bit,” Steve said gently. “You want to get some lunch until then?”

Peter nodded and followed Steve to the cafeteria silently. Steve grabbed them a few sandwiches and some chips, and snuck a brownie on the plate when Peter wasn’t looking. He sat them at a table far off from the other guests in the cafeteria and handed him his peanut butter and jelly.

“Here you go,” he murmured. Peter grabbed half the sandwich and fiddled with his Iron Man.

After lunch, Steve took Peter to Tony’s hospital room and sat him on the empty bed. “Want to watch a movie?” he asked. Peter nodded and Steve found a kid’s movie on one of the channels.

Peter was quiet for over an hour. Steve was starting to get worried, until Peter exploded without warning again.

“Where’s _Daddy?”_ he screamed. He threw the pillow at the wall, and then several blankets and a plastic cup followed. Steve wrapped his arms around Peter again and hauled him over the side of the bed into his lap.

“Peter, please, let’s not do this again,” Steve begged. Peter screamed until his face was red and kicked Steve’s shins and legs repeatedly. Steve winced and considered putting Peter down, then immediately dismissed that thought. A young boy on a rampage through the hospital would not have been pretty.

“Lemme down! You said I could see him! You’re such a liar!” Peter accused. He slapped Steve’s arms as hard as he could and even tried spitting at Steve. Steve just ducked and decided to wait until Peter had calmed down.

“It’s okay, Peter, I promise,” Steve just murmured. He let Peter kick at him some more until the boy realized it had no effect and he stopped.

Unfortunately, Peter was smarter than the average four-year-old. Realizing that he couldn’t hurt Steve physically, he apparently decided verbal insults would be the next best thing.

“Jerk! Poopface! I hope you rot!”

Steve winced at the wording. Clearly Peter had been listening to Clint again.

“You know we don’t use mean words,” he chided the boy.

“I don’ care,” Peter replied. “You’re a idiot, you’re a loser! _I hate you!”_

Steve froze and blinked at Peter in shock. He felt something in him shatter, like every hope inside his heart withered up and died.

 _Oh god, Peter hates me_ , he thought desperately to himself. _He hates me, this is all my fault, I fucked up so badly._

The boy realized he had somehow influenced Steve and resumed full force. “I hate you, I hate you, I hate you,” he chanted angrily.

It was breaking Steve’s heart every time Peter said it, but he forced himself to ignore the words. He just held the boy and let him scream and kick until he finally exhausted himself and fell asleep.

Steve tucked him into one of the beds and made his way to the door. Natasha was sitting outside when he opened it. “Can you watch him?” Steve asked.

Natasha arched an eyebrow but nodded and stood. “Sounded like some tantrum,” she commented.

Steve nodded, feeling a little sick. Some part of him argued that Peter didn’t actually mean when it he said he hated him, but it still hurt more than anything Steve had experienced. “I’m just gonna… go,” he said lamely. Natasha stepped aside and let him flee down the hall silently.

\--------------------

Tony blinked awake and immediately sat up with a groan. “Peter…” he rasped. He felt a hand on his shoulder and looked up to see Natasha.

“He’ll be back in a second,” she promised. Tony lay back down reluctantly and Natasha sat in the chair. “Clint took him to get some lunch at the cafeteria.”

“Is he alright?” Tony asked.

“He’s okay physically,” Natasha replied cryptically. Tony decided not to push it and let Natasha explain his condition and the troubles with the reactor instead.

She had just started describing the mechanics of the EMP when a piercing shriek cut her off. “Daddy! You’re _okay!”_ Peter shouted as he ran towards Tony. Jumping up on the bed, he bounced on Tony's knees and wrapped his arms as tightly as he could around Tony’s neck. Tony winced and returned the hug. Fortunately the damage to his chest hadn’t been as bad as the doctors had originally thought, so it only stung a little.

“I’m alright, baby,” he soothed. “Daddy just had a little accident, that’s all.”

Peter eventually calmed down, though he refused to leave Tony’s lap and had to balance his sandwich on his legs instead. Clint took the chair by the window, watching the boy warily. Tony frowned in confusion.

“Did something happen?” he asked.

“You should ask Peter,” Natasha said. “Peter, you have to tell Daddy what happened.”

Peter looked down guiltily and curled into Tony’s chest. “I don’ wanna,” he muttered. Tony smoothed the boy’s hair back and shifted to sit up.

“Peter,” he said in what he hoped was a stern voice. “Please tell me.”

Peter’s lip trembled and he sniffed and wiped his nose on his sleeve. “I was bad, Daddy,” he whispered.

Tony frowned. Peter was rarely a troublemaker, and he certainly never described himself as ‘bad’. “What happened?”

“I told Cap mean things,” Peter sniffled. “And now Cap’s gone away an' it’s my fault.”

“You said mean things to Cap? But you like him,” Tony said. “Why would you say mean things?”

Peter shrugged. “’Cause you wasn’t waking up an' Cap said I couldn’t see you, an' then we came here an' I _still_ couldn’t see you, an' Cap lied to me so I got mad an' I said…” He trailed off and fiddled with his Iron Man’s arm.

“Tell him what you said,” Natasha coaxed. Tony glanced at her and she gave him a meaningful look that meant it had been worse than he had thought.

“I said… I said I hated him,” Peter whispered.

Tony sighed and rubbed his forehead. “Oh, Peter, that wasn’t nice at all,” he finally said. “That really hurt Cap’s feelings, I bet.”

He more than bet it. Steve adored Peter, practically worshipped the ground he walked on, and the boy had flat-out said he hated him. Tony could imagine it must have ripped the soldier’s heart out.

“It did,” Peter said. “He got real quiet an' he didn’ talk again an' when I woke up Tasha said he was gone an' he hasn’ come back.”

“It’s been about two days,” Natasha supplied. “We checked the Tower and his old SHIELD apartment, but he’s not there. His bike’s gone from the garage, too.”

“Probably went on a ride and got himself lost in his thoughts,” Bucky spoke up from the doorway. He filed into the room with Thor and Bruce close behind. “He tends to do that when he needs to think.”

“I didn’ mean it, Daddy!” Peter insisted. “Honest, I didn’! I don’ hate Cap, I swear.”

“I know you didn’t, Peter,” Tony replied. “But it still really hurt Cap. When he gets back you have to apologize to him, okay?”

Peter nodded glumly and slumped into Tony’s arms. “I didn’ mean it,” he repeated. He sounded a little devastated about the whole thing.

“Don’t worry, Peter, he’ll come back,” Bucky said. “Just give him some time to himself.”

‘Some time’ turned out to be about three weeks. Tony was discharged in that time and returned to the Tower, which felt strangely empty without Steve around. Peter seemed to withdraw into himself, and spent most of his time staring out the windows down at the street, waiting for Steve to return.

“Sir, Captain Rogers has just arrived in the garage,” JARVIS announced one day. Peter gasped, whipped his head around, and stared at Tony open-mouthed.

“You wanna go see him?” Tony asked. Peter nodded vigorously and jumped off the windowsill. Halfway to the elevator, he paused and turned to race back for his new plush toy. Tony smiled at the sight.

They’d been leaving the hospital after Tony was discharged, and Peter had been feeling especially glum about hurting Steve’s feelings. As they’d passed the gift shop, Peter had frozen and stared inside, tugging on Tony’s hand.

“Daddy,” he’d whispered. “Daddy, lookit.”

Tony had glanced over and saw what Peter was talking about—a small stuffed Captain America doll, the same size as his Iron Man one. Tony had bought it immediately, if only to make Peter feel a little better. Peter hadn’t let it out of his sight since.

Together, they made their way down to the garage, where Steve was parking his motorbike. Peter peeked around the corner and watched him nervously. Tony knelt down beside him.

“You should go talk to him, baby,” he murmured. Peter nodded and stepped forward tentatively. He glanced back at Tony, who nodded and ushered him forward. Peter turned back, took a deep breath, and silently made his way across the garage.

Steve finished parking the bike and covered it with his tarp. Peter stopped about ten feet away and bit his lip.

“Cap?” he asked quietly. Tony saw Steve freeze and sighed. It must have really hurt Steve, what Peter had said.

Steve swallowed and turned carefully, a fake smile etched in his face. “Hey, Peter,” he replied. “Is your dad feeling better?”

Peter nodded and stepped forward again. “Uh-huh, Daddy’s okay,” he said.

“Good. That’s good.”

God, this was awkward just watching it. Tony almost stepped forward to intervene, but Peter finally squared his shoulders, took a deep breath, and sprinted towards Steve full-speed.

He collided with Steve’s leg and clutched as hard as he could, already sniffing back tears. “I’m sorry, Cap,” he cried. “I didn’ mean it, honest, I didn’. I don’ hate you, you’re my bestest friend in the whole wide world!”

Steve melted instantly. "Oh, Peter," he said with a small smile. He knelt next to Peter and scooped him up in his arms, cradling him against his chest while the boy whimpered. “Shh, it’s alright,” he soothed. “I forgive you, sweetheart.”

Peter sniffled again and wrapped an arm around Steve’s neck. He kept the arm carrying his plush Cap free. “I’m sorry, I don’ hate you, I promise,” he kept repeating. Steve stood and adjusted him on his hip.

“It’s alright, sweetheart,” Steve smiled and kissed Peter’s forehead. “Everything’s alright now.”

Tony finally stepped out and leaned against the doorway. “So where did you go?” he asked. Steve glanced up and smiled.

“You are better,” he said. Peter nodded and peeked out from where his head was buried in Steve’s neck. “I just… I went out, for a few days. Ended up in Maryland for a bit. Then I came back.”

“Welcome back.”

Steve smiled again and glanced down at the boy in his arms. “Good to be back,” he said quietly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aww, sad angsty chapter. I promise next chapter will (probably) be Steve/Tony for real!!


	11. Hashtag Finally

“Cap!”

Steve turned from the stove and grinned as Peter came rushing in. “Good morning, sweetheart,” he greeted. Peter hopped up and down by Steve’s feet until Steve put the spatula down and scooped him up. “Did you sleep well?”

Peter nodded and bounced lightly in his arms. “Are we havin’ pancakes?” he asked excitedly.

“You bet we are,” Steve replied. Peter clapped and bounced harder, so Steve adjusted him so he was nestled on Steve’s hip. “Since your dad didn’t get much sleep last night, you want to spend part of today with me?”

Peter nodded excitedly. “Yeah, yeah, where are we goin’?”

“Well, I have to do some grocery shopping,” Steve said while he flipped a pancake one-handed. “And if you go with me, I might be persuaded to go to the grocery store by the ice cream shop.”

Peter gasped and stared at the man wide-eyed. “You mean it?”

Steve grinned. “I mean it.”

“Yeah, yeah!”

“It’s a deal,” Steve said. “Now, do you want the blueberry pancakes or the chocolate pancakes?”

“Blueberry. An’ choc’late.”

“You want to split them in half?”

“Uh-huh.”

Steve put two blueberry and two chocolate pancakes on each plate and set Peter down in his seat. He noticed that the boy was still holding his new Captain America plush and smiled to himself. “Alright, eat up, and then we’ll go get dressed and head out and give Daddy a break for a little bit, okay?”

Tony had been up for almost three days straight working on a new suit design. He would have gone longer, but Steve had managed to convince him that he needed to sleep for Peter’s sake as much as for himself.

“Can I wear my Hulk t-shirt today?” Peter asked as he chewed.

“Don’t talk while you’re chewing,” Steve said gently. “And of course you can wear your Hulk shirt.”

An hour later, they were walking towards the grocery store hand-in-hand. Peter stopped every once in a while, tugging on Steve’s hand until Steve obliged and let him look at a flower or pet a dog someone was walking. It took longer than normal to get to the store, but Steve figured it was worth it.

Inside, he grabbed a cart and scooped Peter up to place him in the cart seat. “Stick your legs through the holes for me, okay?” Peter did so, kicking his legs aimlessly once they were in. “Can you hold the list for me?”

“Yeah, uh-huh,” Peter nodded. He grabbed the list, smoothing down the edges as he did, and squinted at the paper. “Water,” he said finally. “That says water.”

“Very good,” Steve praised. “Can you see which aisle says ‘water’?”

Peter whipped his head around until he spotted it. “That one,” he pointed. And with that, they were off.

Peter mostly played with his Cap plush, but every once in a while he’d point to a box and Steve would put it in the cart. It was relaxing, being able to spend time with Peter like this. Since their fight when Tony had been in the hospital, Peter had basically been glued to his hip 24/7, which was nice, but frankly exhausting. At least now Steve didn’t have to carry him as they walked through the store.

“That one,” Peter pointed. Steve grabbed a cereal box and inspected the ingredients carefully.

“Are you sure about this one?” he asked. “That’s an awful lot of sugar.”

“Yeah,” Peter replied. “It tastes like berries.”

“Oh, well if it _tastes_ like berries it must be healthy.” Steve rolled his eyes but put the cereal in the cart anyways. Peter giggled and looked around for something else.

“That one’s for Daddy,” he said, pointing to a yellow box. “JARVIS says it makes Daddy’s heart super strong.”

Steve grabbed it and two other random boxes and moved on. “Okay, how about potato chips?”

While Peter was pondering his choices, Steve’s phone buzzed in his pocket. He glanced at it and grinned when he saw Tony’s name. “Look who’s calling,” he said. Peter made grabby hands at the phone until Steve handed it over, then answered the call with surprising accuracy.

“Hi, Daddy!” he called. “Me an’ Cap are at the groc’ry store an’ we got your icky heart cereal.”

 _“My what?”_ Steve heard Tony ask. _“Wait, never mind, I don’t really want to know. Can you put Cap on, baby?”_

“Uh-huh.” Peter handed the phone over and went back to considering the potato chips.

“Hey, is something wrong?” Steve asked.

_“Why are you taking my son grocery shopping?”_

“That one,” Peter whispered. Steve grabbed a bag of chips and tossed it in the cart.

“He wanted to come with me,” he told Tony. “We’re going for ice cream afterwards.”

“Ice cream!” Peter shouted. Steve winced, but no one seemed to be around to care about the noise.

 _“Don’t you think you should have told me?”_ Tony asked.

Steve frowned. “I asked JARVIS to tell you when you woke up.”

_“Peter was sleeping in my bed last night, I woke up and he wasn’t there!”_

“Oh.” Steve grimaced a bit and scratched his head. “I’m sorry, Tony, I didn’t know he was still sleeping with you.”

Tony sighed and Steve grimaced again. _“It’s alright, JARVIS told me right after I woke up. But maybe a note or something next time, huh?”_

“Sure, yeah. Sorry again, Tony.”

_“Just pick me up some mint ice cream as recompense.”_

Steve smiled in spite of himself and added it to his mental list. “Whatever you say,” he replied. With that, he hung up and turned back to Peter. “So, what’s next?”

\--------------------

Tony didn’t know what to do with his newfound ‘alone time’. Peter was out with Steve, Natasha and Sam were off on a mission, Bruce was locked in his lab, and Clint and Bucky were off watching some God awful sci-fi shows. Even Thor was off planet at the current moment. The Tower suddenly seemed way too big for Tony’s liking.

At first he locked himself in his workshop, but after a while he got bored—actually _bored_ —because Peter wasn’t there asking questions and Steve wasn’t lounging on the couch drawing in his sketchpad. So he went upstairs to the communal floor and turned on one of the _Die Hard_ movies just because he could.

By the time Peter and Steve arrived from their morning out, Tony was ready to die from boredom. He was also convinced that he was going to have the _worst_ empty nest syndrome when Peter left for college.

“Daddy!” Peter cried from the elevator. Tony whipped around and grinned when he saw his son juggling his jacket in one hand and ice cream in the other.

“Hey, baby, how was your morning?” he asked. Peter rushed forward, pausing to put his ice cream precariously on the counter in the kitchen. Steve followed soon after and moved it to a safer location.

“Daddy, guess what we found!” Peter said excitedly. He was almost vibrating from excitement. Tony glanced over at Steve and saw he looked almost guilty. He narrowed his eyes.

“What did you find?” he asked Steve. Steve shrugged and avoided eye contact.

“It’s nothing, really, Peter was the one that found it,” Steve replied.

Peter shuffled forward and plopped his jacket into Tony’s lap. Tony was about to object when the jacket moved.

“What the hell?” He lurched back, grabbed the jacket—which was _wriggling_ now, oh God—and tossed it to the other side of the couch. Peter frowned and went after it.

“Daddy, you can’t do that,” he protested. “You’re gonna hurt him.”

“ _Him_?” Tony asked. He looked over to Steve for an explanation, but the supersoldier just shrugged again.

Peter gingerly unwrapped his jacket, then lifted out what appeared to be a tiny ball of fluff. Tony leaned forward to inspect it, and sighed when the fluff ball moved and a kitten’s face appeared in the crook of Peter’s elbow.

“Oh, for God’s sakes,” he muttered. “You got him a _cat_?”

“I didn’t get him one!” Steve replied. “I just… he found it, in the alley.”

“Steve, you don’t bring any stray cat that Peter finds back to the Tower with you.”

“But… but Peter just asked so nicely!” Steve protested. “And he was giving me this look, and I read somewhere that kittens can be really good for little kids, teach them responsibility and whatnot.”

“You let my son bring home an untested, un-neutered stray cat because he _looked_ at you?”

“You didn’t see the look, Tony.”

Tony sighed again and turned to give Peter a talk about why they couldn’t keep the cat, only to find himself face-to-face with Peter’s wide, sad eyes.

“Pwease Daddy?” Peter begged. Oh God, he was bringing out the ‘pwease’. He only used that if he _really_ knew he could get away with it. “I promise I’ll take real good care of him, I’ll feed him an’ pet him an’ love him, an’ you won’t hafta do a thing. I promise, Daddy, honest!”

Tony opened his mouth to tell him no—and then closed it. Finally, he rubbed his temples and sighed a third time. “You’re helping take care of it,” he muttered to Steve. Then, “Yes, Peter, you can keep the cat.”

“Angus.”

“What?”

Peter grinned. “Cap helped me name him. His name is Angus. Like the guy from AC/DC, Daddy.”

Damn, that kid knew how to get to him almost too well. “Angus it is,” Tony replied. “You can keep Angus.”

“Hooray!” Peter cheered. He squeezed the cat gently, then stopped when it let out a soft mewl. “Daddy, we gotta feed him now.”

“Oh no, this cat belongs to you and Cap,” Tony told him. “You two can feed him.”

Steve pulled out a bag of cat food and a pair of bowls and herded Peter towards the kitchen. “Come on, we’ll feed him and get him some water and see about getting him cleaned up,” he said gently. Peter nodded and raced off. Steve glanced back and smiled at Tony. “Thank you,” he told the genius. “It’ll be good, I promise.”

Tony snorted. “Somehow I doubt that. But only you two could convince me to allow something as stupid as this. And that cat is getting every shot known to mankind, Steve. I mean it.”

Steve’s smile grew even wider. “Whatever you say, Tony.”

\--------------------

Steve was on cloud nine.

Not only had Tony let Peter keep the cat—which was the _cutest_ thing Steve had ever seen—but he had included Steve in an important aspect of his life. Even if it was just helping Peter take care of a kitten.

He was close, so close to telling Tony how he felt, but he wanted to do something more. Tony deserved something big, he deserved all the love Steve could give him and damn it he was going to get that. Now Steve just had to figure out what ‘that’ was.

Until then, he distracted himself by spending time with Peter. The boy was slowly becoming less clingy, but he still tried to spend every waking moment with Steve that he possibly could. Tony explained it was a guilt thing—he felt bad about hurting Steve’s feelings and was trying to make up for it. And Steve felt guilty about that, because it hadn’t hurt _that_ bad, so he obliged Peter whenever he could.

“This one,” Peter pointed. Steve glanced at the flashcard and frowned.

“That’s the one that goes like this,” he gestured with his index knuckle to his cheek, “Right?”

“Uh-huh.” Peter patted Angus’s head and flipped another card over. “This one.”

“First tell me what it says,” Steve prompted. Peter squinted at it.

“Pro… probably,” he sounded out. Steve grinned.

“Good. And that one goes like this.” He held his palms out and lifted them up and down.

“Yeah!”

“My turn now?” Peter nodded, and Steve flipped a card. “Okay, what does it say?”

“Hi… hippo…potomus,” Peter tried.

“Almost. Hippopotamus,” Steve corrected. He made the gesture, pretending to bite at Peter’s toes as he did, and the boy squealed with laughter.

“Cap, no!” he giggled. “I need my toes!”

“Then you better run,” Steve warned. He leaned forward again and bared his teeth, and Peter cried out and jumped off the couch.

“Run, Angus!” he cried. The cat jumped off the couch and bounded off with Peter close behind. Steve took off on the chase around the rest of the suite.

When Peter had exhausted himself, he made his way back to the couch and collapsed face-first. Angus hopped up and settled on the small of Peter’s back until Steve scooped the cat up and deposited him in another chair so Peter could sit up. Then he fell on the couch next to the boy and bundled him again his chest, swaddled in one of the blankets hanging off the back of the sofa.

Peter giggled tiredly and patted around blindly until he found some cards lodged under Steve’s leg. “This one,” he said.

Steve kissed Peter’s temple. “Read it first,” he prompted.

“Tomato.”

“Good.” Steve made the sign and flipped the next card up.

“And what are you two doing?” Tony asked from the doorway. Peter glanced up, careful not to disturb his blanket cocoon.

“Nothin’,” he said slyly. Steve rolled his eyes and sat up.

“Cat’s out of the bag, Peter,” he said. “No sense keeping it a secret now.”

“’Kay. I’m teachin’ Cap signs!” Peter exclaimed.

Tony’s eyebrows went up in surprise. “Really?” he asked, glancing at Steve. “You’re learning sign language?”

“Trying to,” Steve replied. “Figured it would be useful. Plus, it’s helping Peter with some of the bigger words.” Peter had learned to read from an early age when Tony had been using subtitles on the TV, but since he was using his hearing aids all the time now he was still having some trouble with bigger words and certain consonants.

“Oh. Wow. That’s…” Tony trailed off and rubbed the back of his neck quickly. “That’s really something.”

Steve shrugged and flushed a bit. “Just figured it’d be handy.”

Peter managed to untangle himself from his blanket and reached over the couch until Tony picked him up and swung him in his arms. “You hungry, baby boy?”

Peter nodded vigorously. “Can we have ‘pasghetti?” he asked.

“ _Spa_ ghetti,” Tony corrected. “Red or white sauce?”

“White.”

“Alright. You wanna help me and Cap make it?”

Peter bounced up and down and smacked the counter excitedly. “Yeah, yeah!”

Tony glanced behind him as he set Peter on the counter. “Cap? You in for dinner with us?”

Steve felt like he was walking on air. “Of course,” he replied. “That sounds wonderful.”

The wheels in his head started turning as he set the plates out half an hour later. Together, Tony and Peter had made pasta and a plateful of garlic bread, and now Tony was putting the final touches in the sauce while Peter sat at the table, sipping at his juice while he waited.

If everything went perfectly tonight, maybe Steve could convince Tony how much the genius meant to him. He kissed Peter’s head absently as he passed and Peter giggled.

“Cap, we need to have a sleepover tonight,” Peter said. He turned and tugged on Steve’s arm. “We can watch movies, an’ build a blanket fort, an’ make popcorn, an’ it’ll be just you an’ me an’ Daddy!”

“Umm…” Steve paused and glanced over at Tony. That wasn’t exactly what he had in mind, but he could work with it. “We’ll have to ask your dad, huh?”

Tony hummed absently. “Sounds good to me,” he replied. “We’ll put sleeping bags and pillows out in the living room, huh, Peter?”

“Yeah!” Peter cried. “An’ we can watch _Lion King_ an’ _Mulan!_ ”

“Sounds like fun,” Steve grinned.

So that’s exactly what they did. After dinner, Steve cleared the table and washed dishes while Tony and Peter gathered all the blankets and pillows they could find in the apartment. Steve helped them hang some up with Tony while Peter supervised, and then Peter went around arranging pillows until they were exactly perfect. He even made a little nest of pillows and a red blanket for Angus to snooze on.

“’Kay, Daddy, you sit here, an’ Cap, you sit here,” he instructed. “An’ I’ll sit in the middle, right here.” They followed his orders, though Steve made sure to scoot towards Tony a bit more than Peter had said in order to be closer to him. Peter queued up the movie and lay down on his stomach with one hand stroking Angus’s fur.

“Thank you for spending today with him,” Tony whispered after about ten minutes. Steve glanced over and saw Tony was grinning at him. “It means a lot to him. He really loves you, you know.”

Steve smiled fondly at the little boy. “I really love him, too,” he murmured. “That’s why it hurt so much when he said…” He trailed off and shrugged. “But that’s behind us now.”

Peter kicked his feet up and swung them idly back and forth, but gave no other indication he heard them. Out of the corner of his eye, Steve saw Tony inch closer to him again and swallowed hard. Just a few more inches and their hands would be touching.

It was inevitable, what happened next. They kept naturally gravitating towards each other until their sides were pressed flushed together, hands wrapped around each other. Steve could hardly breathe, he was so nervous about all this. At one point Peter turned to ask for popcorn and Tony jumped up before he could see what was going on. Steve had been sure then that Tony would call the whole thing off, whatever it was, but Tony came back with two bowls and sat right back where he’d been before, side-by-side with Steve.

Steve wasn’t sure how it happened, but somewhere during _Mulan_ between the training montage scene and the part where they found the Hun-destroyed village, Steve and Tony were kissing gently. It felt so right, and Tony was so warm, that Steve never wanted it to end.

When they finally parted, Tony grinned up and him and curled into his arm, leaning against his shoulder. “It’s about time, Rogers,” he whispered. Steve grinned and kissed his head. They would have to work out the details later, but for now Steve had never felt more content in his life than he did right now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aww, cutsey chapter to soothe the angst from last chapter. Also, Steve and Peter bonding is giving me emotions galore. Send help.
> 
> Almost done with the last chapter for Make This Place Your Home (and I gotta say, it's pretty good).


	12. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Please read ending notes.

“Tony, you need to calm down.”

“But my _baby_ is going to _high school!”_

Steve rolled his eyes and handed Peter his backpack. “He’s not a baby anymore, Tony,” he reminded his husband gently. Turning to Peter, he watched the boy adjust his straps and smiled. “You’ve got your spare hearing aids, right?”

Peter tapped his side pocket and grinned. “And my ‘spare-spare’ hearing aids that Dad gave me, yeah,” he replied.

Tony flopped face first on the couch and groaned into the cushion. “My baby is leaving me,” he moaned. “I’m going to be _all alone_ , he’s gonna go to college in _four_ years and I’m going to be left here alone with only Steve for company—”

“Like that would be so terrible?” Steve asked in amusement.

“He’s my baby!”

“Dad, I'm fourteen,” Peter complained. He shifted his bag on his shoulder and grabbed a banana. “And I'm gonna miss the bus if I have to keep listening to you complaining.”

“Fine,” Tony groused. “Leave me to die alone.”

“Tony, we’ve been married for eight years, you’re not gonna die alone.”

“To _die_ completely _alone._ ”

Peter rolled his eyes and headed for the elevator. “I’ll see you after school,” he called.

“Have a good time,” Steve replied. He turned to Tony once the doors closed and sighed. “You are so overdramatic.”

Tony grinned and sat up. “Had to do something to get him out of the house fast,” he said. “Plus, now he’ll be ashamed of me as a parent for at least the next three weeks.”

“Normal parents don’t make that a goal in their lives.”

Tony waved a dismissive hand and patted the couch next to him. “No one ever said I was normal. Get over here and let’s watch movies and cuddle.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

\--------------------

“What’ s up, baby boy?”

Peter rolled his eyes as he put his books in his locker. “Will you stop that, Wade?” he muttered. “You know how much I hate that nickname.”

Wade rested his chin on Peter’s shoulder and huffed quietly. “Can’t help it, sweetheart,” he replied. “You know I love pet names.”

“You have a tendency to go overboard.”

Gwen grinned next to him as she opened her own locker. “I think it’s sweet,” she said. “And don’t pretend you don’t like it.”

Wade pressed a quick kiss to Peter’s ear and grinned at him. “Your new aids fitting okay?” he murmured.

“They’re alright,” Peter said.  “Kind of a pain, but I hear a lot better with them than with my last ones.”

“That’s what’s important, princess.”

“Really? Princess?”

Wade grinned and slung an arm around his waist. “Shut up, you love it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi friends! I'm terribly sorry I haven't updated this. In all honesty, I thought I had finished it and was spending time on other fics. When I went through my works and saw this one was still incomplete, I freaked out and wrote a short quick epilogue. I even included some Spideypool because I felt bad. So sorry it's short and it took so damn long. Once I narrow down my prompt list and finish up some of the fics I have in progress, I may come back and revisit this one and add a sequel or something.
> 
> UPDATE: Wow, this is a really short ending. I just realized how rushed it sounds. And you guys have been way too loyal and amazing readers for me to leave you with this. Give me just a few more days, and I'll crank out an ending that'll bring a tear to your eye. Consider this a preview of said ending until then, okay? I love you all and you deserve better than this.

**Author's Note:**

> So I suck at descriptions but basically I made a fic where Peter is deaf and the Avengers live with him and Tony at the Tower and learn how to raise a deaf child. (I actually am really super excited about this fic so I hope you guys love it).
> 
> I know people are going to ask— why make him deaf? And part of it was so he and Clint could be awesome sign language bros together, but really I just wanted to show what a child with an impairment and the people around him go through. I work with toddlers, and it's hard sometimes to see them struggle if they have a disability just because they aren't up to par with the other kids, when really they're smart and wonderful beings. Making Peter deaf was just a choice to emphasize that it's a common occurrence, and it's something kids have to live with, and it's important to show that people are not defined by their disability.
> 
> As for the ships (since I change them basically every story I write), I know. I have way too many ships that I love and I can't pick just one. And I know, Bucky and Clint haven't even been in the same movie together. I don't care, because they're adorable and I love them.
> 
> The fic title is from a Pink Floyd song (yes, I had previously used this song as a chapter title for Happiest Days of Our Lives, and yes, I changed that title so I could use "Signs of Life" for this one. Oops.)
> 
> Got an idea for a fic? A prompt you'd like to see? Either leave a comment on this fic OR go to my [tumblr ask box](http://halfway-punk-rock.tumblr.com/ask) and leave it for me! I'd love to hear them!!!


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